


Hot Dogs and Hotdogs

by Turkington82



Category: Adam Driver - Fandom, Girls (TV), Marriage Story (2019), Paterson (2016), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adam Driver - Freeform, Adam Driver Fandom - Freeform, Adam Driver Smut, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Anal Play, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awards, Blow Jobs, Brooklyn, Cunnilingus, Dogs, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Angst, Fun, Hot Sex, I love Adam and Joanne., If anyone is worrying Joanne doesnt even exist in the AU because I mean zero disrespect, Inside Llewyn Davis - Freeform, It isn't Adam or our OFC taking the drugs, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Love, Marine Corps, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Paterson - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Star Wars - Freeform, This is NOT an Adam cheating fic, This is a love story, This is pure "imagine Adam is single" fun fiction, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, adam driver snl - Freeform, adamdriver, alternate universe where Adam is single, girls, it is so minor you probably won't notice it, the dead don't die - Freeform, very, very minor reference to drug taking.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 167,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23328124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turkington82/pseuds/Turkington82
Summary: Welcome to the BIG slow burn Adam Driver LOVE story (with plenty of nsfw smut!!!) also big on plot development and character.A note on tags: This fic features an OFC, but is written in first person. This is because I (personally) find it v. hard to get into Reader-based stories with "y/n" written the whole way through. I'd rather just imagine I am the original character the same way I do with a novel, I made it "you" so readers can feel really involved. I get it's not for everyone. This is an AU in which Adam has been single for ages and there is no Joanne (this is NOT a cheating on Joanne fic, RESPECT!)The premise: Adam and puppies = ideal meet-cute. Moose is the 'Instigator' of this whole thing.OFC (you): Amy, a struggling actress who's chucked it all in after too many audition rejections to return to studying for a Theatre studies PhD. You get a job at Brooklyn dog rescue centre to pay for your studies.Him: Adam Driver, single in this universe, has a bit of down time and decides it is time to finally get the pet dog he has always wanted.The dog: Moose, the unwitting hero of this meet cute is a slobbery, gentle giant Rottweiler - Pit bull mix who loves rolling in leaves.
Relationships: Adam Driver/Original Female Character(s), adam driver / ofc
Comments: 223
Kudos: 290





	1. The Meet-cute

**Author's Note:**

> This is smutty slow burn fluff with a teeny bit of angst and a lot of plot, but by no means related in any way to real life. I don't own Adam etc etc, obviously! This is just escapism for these dark and scary times. Hope you enjoy, I haven't written fan fic for YEARS. There will be eventual sexy times, but I do want it to come after a bit of plot...
> 
> Rated Explicit for eventual chapters, there is also straight up romance here, this is a love story.
> 
> Any and all feedback gratefully received! :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy is having just another day at Brooklyn Dog Rescue right up until HE walks in to adopt a puppy.  
> ***  
> In which Adam struggles to fit into a tiny office space.  
> ***  
> In which Moose can barely hold his sh*t together with excitement.

_In summer of 2018 you’d graduated from Julliard as a mature student, hoping, like so many of your classmates, to make it on the stage. You were paying mind-boggling rent on a tiny studio in Park Slope, working 4 jobs and auditioning like crazy for any and every toothpaste commercial, every half-assed, tiny rep theatre production going and you were generally frazzled._

_Following a rough 9 months of slogging it like this, marked only by badly paid small acting gigs, disappointing auditions, rejections and mounting frustration you had finally turned your back on the precarious artistic life to get a proper job and start rethinking your long term career._

_You’d grown up around animals and had a positive, bubbly personality your colleagues and friends found infectious. You’d decided to go back to university part time to do your Theatre Studies PhD in the hopes of teaching (those who can’t teach, right??) , but needed work, so when a position came up as administrator for the Brooklyn Dog Rescue you jumped at the chance._

_Little did you know that one prospective dog owner was going to turn your whole world upside down_

*******

****

  
It was going to be a hot summer in NYC. Even on the first weekend in June the thermometer was already hitting 76 F and city dwellers were thronging the parks, bars and café terraces in t-shirts and shorts and hitting Coney Island beach on the weekends.

  
You’d been working at Brooklyn Dog Rescue since February and had bedded in well. Your team were super friendly, supportive of your academic work, and sociable. You hung out a fair bit with your colleagues, especially Rose, and loved spending your days playing with and walking the dogs, helping out with trainers and prospective adopters coordinating interviews and facilitating home introductions – it was always satisfying.

But the onset of summer brought its own set of challenges. As the heat rose, New York apartments became more and more cramped and stifling. Puppies bought as presents for Christmas started to become less of a novelty for some and more of a thing that got in the way of a summer vacation, or free time with friends.

The pound was getting busier as more and more people started showing up, leaving their dogs in your care – often without even showing face, just dumping and running. It was depressing, but you all pulled together to do your best and worked double time to make sure the new pups were getting homes.

It was the Monday afternoon following the first June weekend. You were working on your laptop at the front desk to cover the reception lunch break – you were knee deep in reviewing prospective adopter applications when the bell above the door rang.

You were just finishing typing up an email and didn’t look up. Crouched over your laptop you couldn’t see over the counter, but hollered:

“Just a second, sorry! I’ll be right with you if you want to take a seat!”

“Uh…ok, sure. That’s ok, I’ll just grab a seat.” came a deep, rumbling, honeyed voice.

You stopped typing/ The voice oddly familiar, you had no idea why. It was a good voice. Really... good. 

You quickly finished typing, hit send on your email, closed the laptop and stepped up from behind your seat at the counter.

Your gaze immediately fell on a very tall, broad shouldered guy in black jeans, a plaid shirt, a hooded jacket and red and black Nikes taking up most of the small three-seater sofa in the reception area. A navy baseball cap was pulled down tight over his head, the rim obscuring his face. He was looking out the window, a tousle of jaw-skimming black hair peeking out from under the cap. But despite not seeing his face, something gnawed at you inside. He seemed so familiar. So tall. Definitely attractive.

_Why did you feel like you knew him?_

You cleared your throat.

“Hi, sorry I kept you waiting! How can I help?” A casual smile.

The guy turned and his gaze fell straight on you. And your breath hitched.

_Oh._

He stood up, his tall, broad frame taking up most of the small lounge space beside reception.

Your breath stuttered in your throat. A flutter deep in your stomach as recognition sparked in your brain.

_I know this guy. It's Adam Driver. Adam fucking Driver?_

You almost let out a sharp laugh of surprise at the incongruousness of the situation.

_Adam "my-actor-friends-won't-shut-up-about-him" Driver. Adam "my face is in the hall of fame at Juilliard" Driver. Well... fuck me!_

Standing in the reception of Brooklyn Dog Rescue centre. All 6ft 3 inches of him.

Impossibly beautiful.

His eyes widened slightly as he turned and met your gaze, an almost imperceptible and sheepish smile turning the corner of his lips, like he was taken by surprise.

It flashed over his face in a second and it was gone then his face turned back to the serious, studied look he was known for.

You almost laughed again, part surprise, part disbelief. An internal voice even popped up in your head going “ _holy crap, he really does has that ‘serious face’ everyone talks about_ ”.

Instead you swallowed, took a deep breath and shook yourself in as small a movement as you could as you broke into what you hoped wasn’t a plastered, awkward smile.

He walked towards you, scratching the back of his head, “Oh, yeah, hi! Um… So, I, uh, was looking to get a dog…” he said.

he pursed his lips, taking off his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair. He looked almost more awkward than you. 

“Well, by some crazy coincidence this happens to be a dog pound, so I guess we can come to some kind of arrangement.” You joked softly.

He kept his gaze dead on you, looking pensive and right into your eyes for a second, then broke into a genuine warm laugh.

“Oh, ha yeah, I guess we could! That was, uh, stating the obvious, I guess most people don’t walk in here looking for groceries…” He chuckled and the soft crinkle of a smile broke over his face.

“I’m Adam” – he stretched his hand out to shake yours, his large hand enveloping your small hand entirely in his, his palm warm and soft.

“Hi, I’m Amy…. Um, yes. I know who you are.” You smiled softly, almost embarrassed, hoping not to make him awkward, but he just shrugged it off.

“Oh, yes. I guess…. I get that, I mean, I have this face…” he looked serious again, almost tired, and you imagined the poor guy probably couldn’t go ANYWHERE any more without being stared at, or pointed at.

“Don’t worry", you joked, "if the paparazzi come round you I'll, uh, smuggle you into our secret bunker under the reception. Your secret's safe with me!”

You grinned, feeling slightly dazed.

He smirked at this and his shoulders relaxed. Then he giggled. It caught you off guard. It was disarming.

“Ha, thanks – I wish more places had secret bunkers!” you both chuckled.

“So", you went on…"adopting? That’s awesome. Good timing too, we have a LOT of new pups in. Do you, um, know what sort of dog you’re looking for?”

“Hmmm, not so much. A big one, I like German Shepherds, Rottweilers. I had a Rottweiler when I was younger, as a kid. But I guess, I ‘ll know when I see it? Like, I’ll have a feel or a connection?”

“Sure, that makes sense, especially with adoptions, you’ve got to click.”

“Yeah. I’ve kind of wanted to do this for a while but it’s been so busy. But, now, I, uh, have a break right now, I'll be around more... um. Anyway it’s the right time. I’ve got people, friends, who can help if I have to travel but… er… for now there’s a lot of down time, so I figured I should just stop talking about doing it and just come along.”

You didn’t ask about the “down time”, although you were curious. It was none of your business, but you couldn't pretend not to be intrigued. Adam was an actor you'd admired like anyone in your profession, one of those whose names was hallowed in so many circles. The newest shining star of Juilliard. The moment felt both weirdly familiar and completely surreal as you walked through the centre. You also couldn't deny just how insanely attractive he was in real life. Just how big and tall and... present. You were struggling to take your eyes off him.

When he spoke he looked you right in the eye, always the slight crinkle of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Ok, well… There’s some boring registration paperwork, but we can do that after if you want to just go and see the dogs we have?” You focused back on the job, going through the motions. But you were thrown.

“Sure. Ok, cool. Yeah.”

Your shoulders un-tensed as you walked round the back of reception and into the complex at the back of the building where the kennels and training pens were.

Past the initial surprise at seeing him stood in your workplace, a face you only knew from movie posters and glossy magazines and the chatter from Juilliard who'd alumni who'd crossed paths with him, Adam was charming and easy to talk to, and as you chatted more about his childhood dog, Coco, the surprise faded and you relaxed into the fact that he was, of course, a normal human. Normal, in as much as he really was ridiculously handsome - to the point of surreal, deliciously charismatic, somehow uniquely quirky in his tall, impossible broadness and almost awkward body movements and – you couldn’t help admitting – sexy as hell. You suddenly understood what your friends had been going on about. Suddenly you were really paying attention.

“So, have you worked here long? Must be a pretty awesome job” Adam asked, turning his body fully towards you as he spoke.

“Oh, since the start of the year. I’m lucky, it’s a lot of fun. I grew up with dogs and just love that I don’t have a traditional desk job. I’m pretty active, I don’t think I could handle just doing emails all day…”

“Yeah”, Adam grins, “I'd be terrible at that. I did a bunch of pretty shitty jobs before acting - telemarketing, I did sales calls, I sucked at pretty much all of them.”

“I think your career is pretty safe” You laughed, “I can’t see you selling orthopaedic shoes on the shopping channel just yet."

He grinned at that, widely and off guard. Boyish and beautiful.

You wanted to ask him about Julliard, seeing as he was obviously one of the many famous alumni whose faces graced the hallways, but didn’t want to seem too keen. Chatting dogs was so enjoyable, you thought best to keep the acting thing to yourself, after all he was probably bombarded by wannabe actresses all the time looking to get ahead, you were NOT that person.

You were approaching the first set of kennels. Adam’s eyes lit up as you opened the door and about 20 tails started furiously wagging and dogs yelping and barking with excitement.

“Oh, shit. Oh, ho, ho!” he bounded in and immediately crouched down by the first kennel, with a very excitable pincher in it.

A pin board with a polaroid photo was hung on the kennel doorframe with a big sticker saying “Say Hi! I’m Charlie and I love liver treats, jumping over logs and chewing my duck toy”

“Hi Charlie, hey, hey!” He squatted down low and stuck his hand in to pat Charlie on the head before turning and giving you the biggest beam. He was loving this, and looked like a giant kid in a candy store. Charlie was jumping with happiness and licking Adam’s hand furiously.

“Yeah, you like that? You want a tummy rub?” The two were playing through the kennel opening, but soon Duke, the boxer in the kennel next door was scratching for attention too.

“Oh my god, this is gonna be so hard!” Adam exclaimed as he ran round the room trying to pat all the dogs he could.

You spent the next half hour introducing Adam to all the dogs, or rather, him introducing himself with loud exclamations of “Hey buddy, hi! Wanna play! Grrrr!” and making crazy faces and dog growl noises. You were also playing with them and every so often, you caught Adam watching you intently as you spoke softly to each of the pups, before he smiled awkwardly and returned his attention to the dogs. Your brain was scrambled and you dismissed any notion that he might be remotely interested, clearly your imagination entirely.

You told him all the funny stories about each dog which made him laugh, and he in turn told you about some of the hi jinx his old dog Coco had gotten up to when he was a kid. There was an easy familiarity between the two of you which made the whole scenario feel really grounded.

Moose, a Rottweiler-pit bull, seemed to hold his attention more than the others. They’d had an immediate chemistry – and Adam seemed really drawn.

“Oh, man. Moose is amazing! Look at him! He reminds me of Coco, but kind of smaller. A bit more gentle giant? But loads of energy, I love that.” Moose’s sticker read “Hi, I’m Moose. I’m a kick-ass guard dog, but also a secret romantic. I love rolling in leaves and barking at pigeons.”

Moose was loving the attention, rolling onto his back and yapping playfully at Adam as he rubbed his belly, then jumping up to try and lick his face.

“Do you want to take Moose for a play session in the training pen?” You asked.

You loved Moose too, he’d been at the pound for a while – bigger dogs usually took longer to get snapped up as most people had small apartments in Manhattan. He really was a gentle giant, mostly slobbery and playful, but he defended the pound like he owned the place if he felt any sense of wariness. The perfect guard dog for a single person, if you’d had the space and the support you’d have adopted him yourself.

“Sure, yes, oh fuck yeah, yes please. Ok, Moose – c’mon buddy we’re going to play”.

You let Moose out and he immediately leapt into Adam’s arms. Despite being a massive dog, Adam just scooped Moose up like he was picking up a bag of groceries, the dog fit into his long, muscular arms perfectly. Adam giggled wildly as Moose licked his face, and nuzzled his neck. You were melting inside.

“Okay buddy, yes, yes, I love you too! Ok, let’s go!” Moose knocked Adam’s cap off with his enthusiastic nuzzling, you picked it up as the pair of them went off to the training pen. There were balls and all sorts of toys in the grassy enclosure, Adam put Moose down and took off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his plaid as the pair started to run around, Moose bounding up and down as he and Adam did a sort of graceful play dance. Adam threw balls and wrestled with Moose over a chew toy.

“Want to join us?” He turned and waved you into the pen. You normally didn’t interfere when prospective owners were meeting the dogs, but it seemed harmless, and who could resist the offer? Besides, Moose trusted you and clearly trusted Adam so it could only be positive for him.

You ran around, laughing at Moose’s mad dancing and jumping as he got more and more excited. Eventually he and Adam wound up rolling around in a wrestle and you jogged over to scratch Moose behind the ears as Adam held him in a cuddle.

  
“He likes you” Adam stated, and gave you a sweet little smile as he rubbed Moose’s ear, “This is so much fun. I think... I think Moose is the one! Look at him!” He looked right into Moose's eyes and Moose licked Adam’s nose. Adam wrinkled his face up in a chuckle and nuzzled the dog right back.

“Yes, yes you do, yes I know, you’re the man! Yes, I know. Ok, smoochy times over, we’ve got to go do some papers!”

You smiled at Adam who unrolled himself from off the ground and stood up, shaking grass off his shirt. You handed him his cap and jacket.

“Thanks. You’re so lucky you get to do this all day."

“Moose is my favourite too”, you mentioned, “I’m almost annoyed you’re going to adopt him, he is my dream choice. But I don’t think Moose would like my tiny apartment too much!”

“I’ll send you photos!” Adam joked – then looked at you with a serious face. You wanted in that moment to hang on a second to the idea that Adam might somehow remain in contact with you – sending dog pictures no less. It clearly had come out as a joke from him too as he quickly put his cap back on, took his jacket from you and picked Moose up to take him back to the kennel.

Once Moose was safely back in his kennel, you had walked Adam back to reception doors. As you got near you could see it had gotten busy and there were 4-5 people chatting to your colleague Rose who was now back from lunch.

  
“Oh.” You thought quickly. “Um, do you want to avoid the…”

“If there’s a way, that would be great. I’d be grateful, I just don’t want to cause a fuss…” he looked sheepish and pulled his cap lower out of instinctive habit. You quickly rerouted to go via a staff fire exit door to the side of reception.

“I totally get it, we can go to our staff room, there’s only Rose and I today it’ll be private.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

You ducked in through the fire exit and led Adam to your small, cramped staff room. You cleared a small chair which he then almost had to squeeze into, and flustered about the coffee prep shelf.

“Can I get you anything, a coffee?" You asked "I just need to grab the papers from reception”.

“Oh, it’s ok, I can make one if you want to go and get the papers. You want one too?” He smiled sweetly and got up towards you and immediately started pulling cups and filling the kettle.

“Thanks, I would LOVE a coffee. Black no sugar!”

He leant over your head to grab the instant coffee from a shelf above you and brushed right up against you. He body was warm, with a faint smell of musky, spicy cologne. Divine. You blushed furiously and ducked out to get the papers.

When you returned, Adam was sat with two coffees in front of him, almost hunched over the edge of your desk - the chair was clearly too small for him. You realised he was looking at your study books stacked on one side of the table. You plopped the papers down and moved them out the way, clearing your throat.

“Are these yours? You study theatre?” He asked, handing you your coffee.

“Yes… yeah… I – er – I’m studying for my Theatre Phd part time… I was hoping to teach eventually…”

He looked right at you, interested. This was a man who wouldn’t hold a conversation without ever looking you right in the eye.

“That’s great! Where are you studying?”

“I'm at Tisch now. But... well, I’m actually a Julliard graduate… like you. Graduated a couple of years ago.”

“No way! Oh! Cool, you didn't say!" He looked right at you, completely focused.

“It didn’t seem relevant, but yes – we’ve all seen your face on the alumni wall…”

“Oh god, that really old headshot, with my ears sticking out and that really bad pudding bowl haircut?”

“Yes… hahah that’s the one!”

He asked you a million questions about your course, finding out what tutors you had in common, favourite and most hated classes (yours: trombone, a short lived foray into music which you realised was the worst idea you’d ever had / his: Italian. He loved the language, discovered he was pretty awful at it, and had a draconian teacher with a “voice like a bull horn”). You shared your favourite study texts and discovered a mutual love for Sam Shepherd. Adam told you about a performance he’d coordinated of Shepherd’s plays for AITAF, his charity for arts in the armed forces. You told him about an amateur crowd-funded production you’d done with friends for hospital workers.

Conversation was easy, both of you riffing off each other’s energy. In the cramped space he took up a lot of room and sat closely together you noticed how tactile he was – reaching out to touch your arm, leaning into you, constantly checking if you wanted more coffee, or needed to get back to reception (Rose seemed to be handling it, you were in NO rush to leave).

 _Surely he’s not single?_ You thought – you didn’t keep up with celebrity gossip, but knew Adam was a pretty private person, his stand-offish personality was famed amongst your actor friends and at Julliard, not that you were seeing any evidence of this. He seemed relaxed around you and in this off-work moment.

 _This isn’t flirting. This is just how he is. I am literally imagining things. I need to get the goddamned paperwork sorted…_ your brain kicked in, then you looked up at the clock on the wall behind Adam.

“Oh my god, It’s 3.30… we close at 4! I need to get this paperwork done or you are not getting your dog!”

You both looked a bit stunned at the time that had passed, and Adam suddenly reverted in a flash to super serious and focused, like a switch as you gathered up the registration papers and a pen.

“Wow, yeah. I didn’t even notice the time – I need to get home too, I’ve got some calls.”

He paused. “Shame, I was enjoying our conversation! I didn’t stay friends with a lot of people at Julliard after I left. I was… a bit of an asshole to be honest, I’d just come out the marines and frankly was pretty rough round the edges... I guess I just wanted to move on really quick and get out there…”

“You do… kinda have a reputation…” You hesitated. Had you said too much? He looked up at you and chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m aware. I feel like my whole life is trying to make up for it by working hard at what I do…”

You gave him a reassured smile.

“It’s just nice for me to talk about it. It’s been a while. Anyway, what do you need me to fill in.”

You handed him the papers, it was just registration for now.

“Basically once you’re registered, we do a basic background check, credit check, etc, put together official adoption papers and schedule a home visit with Moose and one of our adoption support volunteers. If that goes well, it’s all signed and officialised. Moose is all yours!”

“Cool, that’s great...” He hesitated. “Would that be with you? The home visit?” He looked keen.

“Oh… er… I don’t know. It could be, it depends on my rota. I guess.” You tried not to blush, and failed miserably.

“Well, Moose seems to really like you and… I guess, I dunno. It’s nice if its someone I’ve met already. This sounds really stupid, but I trust you – my social circle of close friends is pretty small, and I tend to prefer interactions with people I don’t know well to be small… It sounds weird I know…”

“It doesn’t… I guess that’s the downside of fame, it must be pretty draining. I can ask to schedule it so it would be me doing the visit.

“I’d like that. Thanks - I'm not trying to come off like some demanding asshole...", he put on a small voice "oh, that Adam Driver, comes in here demanding this and that" He rubbed his knees, looking at the floor.

  
You laughed out loud at this and reached over to him, suddenly emboldened.

  
“We're a fancy rescue pound in Brooklyn, I can't tell you the amount of entitled asshats and diva weirdos we've had in here! Wanting a familiar face for the home intro is totally normal."

  
He looked at your small hand on his arm, but didn’t pull away, instead just looked up at you from under the cap, his dark eyes soft and kind.

  
“Right, well this entitled asshat is going to fill out the form…”

  
He grinned at you, reaching for a pen. “You can just put an email if you don’t want to leave a number on our records. I mean, we don't share data obviously, but...Or your agent, I don’t know maybe you don’t want that info lying around? I don’t know if you have someone who manages this sort of thing?”

  
“No, it’s fine. I know it isn’t going anywhere. I’ll leave my number. You can… you know… let me know how Moose is doing in the meantime, before the home visit?”

  
"Oh. Sure. I mean, yes, if you'd like me to."

"I would" He was deadly serious.

  
Your heart caught in your throat at the unguarded look that crossed over his face. You dismissed it with a short, sharp laugh. Nerves.

  
“Sure! I can do that." You smiled at Adam. "Be prepared though, Moose is a real diva, he poses like a pro.”

  
He finished filling out the form, and got up to leave.

  
“Want me to check outside? If it’s busy? We’re nearly closed so reception should be empty by now…”

  
“It’s fine, I won't hang about, I can just duck out super quick. I have my bike out there, so I can get onto the road pretty quickly. Thanks again. It was… uh... really nice to meet you.” He took your hand in his, less a shake than a sort of brief clutch.

  
“You too. Thanks. I’ll – er… be in touch”

  
“I hope so” he said – a parting shot as he made his way out the staff room and through reception to the front door, his head bowed.

He hopped out pretty quickly and gave you a quick glance back through the glass door as he went to unlock his bike from the rack outside.

  
Rose, who had missed this entire encounter was now looking at Adam’s broad frame as he stood outside the door. She did a double take and looked at you, then back at Adam as he set off on his bike.

She swung round at you.

“Was that…? What the fuck? Was that…

She was gaping like a fish.

“Yes”

You grinned, eyebrows raised.

“WAS THAT ADAM FUCKING DRIVER???”

“YES! So... random. And he’s adopting Moose! Like, he just filled out the goddamned paperwork. That was NOT what I expected today to go like."

“Wait, wait, wait, wait... you’ve been out the back for ages. You’ve been with him this whole time?

“… Yeah….!" Your face expressed as much disbelief as Rose's "We couldn’t stop talking! Like, seriously, we were just talking, for ages, I didn’t actually notice the time!”

“Whaaaaa? I mean. Holy shit. Was it weird? Crazy? Nice? Is that a stupid question?” Rose was still flustered.

“It was… weirdly normal, and really nice. REALLY nice. He’s really down to earth. Funny. Not weird at all – like, the serious thing? Nah… I think he’s just focused. But he’s funny. Really funny. Actually a bit... goofy, old fashioned. But … anyway.”

“WOW”

“Yeah.”

“So, are you doing his home visit?”

“Yeah, he weirdly… asked for it to be me. I mean, makes sense I guess...?”

“OK, seriously. WHAT??? Girl, get in!!! Please, for all our sakes.”

She giggled.

You laughed and started locking the front door as Rose bugged you with a hundred questions. You both decided to go and grab a drink so you could give her the lowdown. She was your one trusted friend and knew she wouldn't gossip to anyone.

Just before you left, you tapped Adam’s number into your phone. You were literally glowing inside at the idea of seeing him again.

...


	2. Dog Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a house visit is set, phone chats are had and Moose eats a hot dog.  
> ***  
> I don't own, know, or have anything to do with Adam Driver. This is pure, invented stuff. In this universe Adam is single and never married.  
> ***  
> Very slow burn, so this is still 100% smut-less vanilla, dig in for the long haul people!  
> ***  
> The photo that inspired this fic is here: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/45317539984175958/  
> THAT Breitling commercial: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/AZGGUR3y_D04NvXMTZd5kYNpTSu2LmFepBIVwEvI5lDGgnNI5_Jme-I/

Two days had gone by since Adam had showed up at the dog rescue, totally knocked the breath out of you and left you a completely distracted hot mess. You’d managed to spill coffee on yourself both mornings on the way in to work and your level of fidgety had reached epic proportions.

You had picked up your cell phone at least 100 times per day, staring at it with such intensity you realised anyone looking at you would think you were having a seizure, or about to shoot laser beams from them.

You had date options to send him for a home visit with Moose, who looked about as frustrated as you did, pouting in his kennel, clearly missing his new dream best friend.

However, for some reason – whilst he had been super easy and comfortable to talk to in person, a regular human, after all – the minute he had walked out the door it was like the moment hadn’t really happened, and he became “Adam Driver: Award-Winning Actor” again, the unobtainable, completely “not-a-real-person” celebrity whose life existed only in magazines and movies and didn’t mirror yours in any way imaginable.

It didn’t help that that morning, on the front of the New York Times, was a half-page advert for Breitling watches featuring his ridiculously tall frame, clad in a perfect-fitting black tuxedo, staring back at you from the reception desk with those intense, come-to-bed eyes.

Where in the past you would have glanced at it, sighed, and gone back to work, now you kept looking at the advert and trying to compute how this divine figure, like a 1950s Paul Newman-esque heart throb was the same guy who’d cycled to your dog rescue centre in scruffy jeans and messy hair to play with Moose like Joe Average.

Somehow, in your brain, sending a stupid text about home visit dates had become harder than writing your current dissertation for university. 

Rose, thankfully, who’d witnessed your mad phone staring all morning, brought you back to earth.

“Girl, you have GOT to text him. He needs to schedule his home visit. It's your JOB. YOU need to stop being so antsy – the angst vibes you’re giving off are killing me. Just text him. Also so I can live vicariously through you.”

Your inner monologue started talking to you. _Oh my god, I’m becoming that person. I’m not that person! Am I that person?? Someone slap “stupid” on my forehead. In fact, scratch that, someone just slap my forehead._

“Oh my god, Rose, you’re right, I’m turning into a massive idiot. This guy’s stupid Breitling face is turning me idiot-like. OK. Texting. Now.”

Rose giggled. “That’s my girl. Now don’t accidentally hit xoxo at the end on repeat”.

You both laugh at that. You started typing as Rose read out the date options from the diary.

_*text*_

_Hi Adam! Amy here – Brooklyn Dog Rescue. Hope you are well?_

_\- Hope you’re well? Oh my god, needy._

“It’s not needy” – shouted Rose as you realised you were thinking out loud – “It’s polite! Oh lord, this is going to take forever!”

You pulled yourself together. You weren’t this person, never had been. What was wrong with you?! _Just be yourself_ you thought.

_"Good news, we have slots available for your home visit, if any if the below suit you just let me know and I'll schedule it in._

_Friday 14 TH after 12PM, SAT 15TH Between 10 AM – 12PM, SUN after 11am."_

You smiled as you remembered Adam rolling around the grass with Moose slobbering all over the place – as an afterthought – you added:

_"Moose says hi. He's been missing you. He's very grumpy without his new friend."_

You had a picture saved of Moose rolled up in his play blanket looking – well, pretty pathetic honestly, but completely adorable. You added it as an attachment, smiled to yourself, and hit send.

***

Nothing happened for the rest of the day. You answered some calls at reception, wrote a few pages of your dissertation. You strained every nerve in your body to NOT check your phone every two minutes, but even Rose was pestering you later in the afternoon as you both cleaned out the kennels and took some of the dogs for their afternoon exercise walks along the riverfront.

“Anything?”, she kept asking as you stopped for coffees at a takeaway kiosk.

“Rose, seriously, you think I wouldn’t tell you? He’s a busy guy…”

“He does _want_ the dog, right???”

“Now, _you’re_ sounding crazy!”

***

You finally got back to your apartment at 7pm, dumped your laptop bag and took off your muddy boots then stripped to take a shower and put on some comfy slacks. Your phone hadn’t buzzed once all afternoon.

Maybe he’d changed his mind on adoption. Maybe he was rehearsing - although he’d mentioned not having projects on. Maybe his phone was broken. Maybe… he’d fallen under a bus, or into the Hudson?

You snorted with laughter into your glass of wine.

 _That’s it, I am losing it_! you thought. _If my mum didn’t respond for 2 days I wouldn’t even think anything about it. Pull your shit together Amy, go and do some work!_

You parked on your sofa with a draft script for a project you were working on with some university friends, glass of wine in hand and a bowl of popcorn on the table when your phone started buzzing.

_*Caller: Adam Driver*_

You blinked at the screen.

Gulped.

Then nearly dropped the wine on the carpet as you sat up straight and scrambled for the phone.

“Oh god, he’s calling!” You said out loud, at nobody.

Your voice came out as a squeak.

_Oh, great! Adam Driver is calling me and my voice is so high pitched I sound like I’m trapped under a wardrobe or something._

It rang out and you realised you actually had to pick the phone up.

“Hello?”

You thanked the heavens silently that you managed not to sound like Mickey Mouse.

“Hi, Amy? It’s Adam. Um, Adam Driver.”

“Hi. Yes, I know it’s you.” _Urgh_ “Hi…. How are you?”

“Good! Thanks, yeah. Good. Um, sorry it took so long to call back, I was out, uh, training and I usually leave my phone at my apartment.”

“Oh. Of course” _dur, you thought to yourself, not under a bus or in the Hudson then…_ “Don’t worry, we just wanted to get you your home visit slot organised.” Your heart rate had notched up considerably just at the sound of his voice, your palms were sweating.

“Yeah! I can do the Friday. Would 4pm be too late? Just I have some errands in the day.”

“No, it’s fine. 4pm is fine. I’ll put it in the diary. I’ll confirm again the day before.”

All business. Hardly the swooping fairy tale conversation you’d been hyperventilating about in your dreams. You were about to say bye and end the call when Adam piped in,

“Awesome, oh, and thanks for the picture. Oh my god, that blanket. He’s so fucking awesome. He looks so lonely though! Is he lonely?”

You burst out laughing, mostly from the tension inside you, but also at how disarmingly earnest and anxious Adam sounded at the thought of Moose being all alone and grumping in his kennel.

“Oh, Moose is ok! He was pouting for the camera, he’s a little diva, really. But rest assured he is getting ALL the love right now. He had a long walk in the park this afternoon, chased some birds and ate someone’s dropped loaded hot dog which is probably the most exciting thing he’s eaten all week.”

Adam chuckled on the other end of the line. You relaxed. You suddenly didn’t want to put the phone down.

“He ate a dropped hot dog? With, like, onions and everything on it?” He laughed.

“Yeah, actually it was disgusting, it was doused in ketchup, tons of mustard, someone had trampled on it already.”

You were both giggling.

“That’s my dog! The “hot dog scavenger”. Is that even good food for a dog? He’s probably going to have the shits for the rest of the week. You realise that, right?”

“Oh wow, thanks.” You couldn’t stop laughing. “I hadn’t even thought about it. And I’m on shift tomorrow. Great. Maybe on Friday I’ll just leave him with you regardless of adoption papers, and run away. Then _you_ can deal with the post-hot dog shits.”

“I’d literally forgive him if he left a trail of them all over my apartment. I’d take one look at his face. You know that face he does? I think he could probably rip the apartment to shreds and I’d give him an award or something. I’m going to be such a sucker.”

“Oh lord, he is going to LOVE the attention. His little dog ego will get so big, it might explode.”

“Argh, Moose! I’m so excited. So... um, it’s definitely you coming on Friday?” He sounded oddly excited about that, too.

“Yes. It’s little me.”

“Cool. Great. Actually, I have a book I thought you might like. You can pick it up. I mean… sorry, not to sound weird, just you said you were into Shepherd plays and since you’re coming round. I dug it out.”

“Oh.” _You went quiet. He looked out a book for you? He remembered your favourite playwright?_ “That’s… that’s really kind. Thanks. I do love Shepherd. Actually, I’m working on a script right now, like an adaptation of Fool for Love. I’m kind of stuck on it, so maybe this might help unlock something. Give me some inspiration.”

“Oh really? Fool for Love is a classic. An adaptation, that sounds cool.”

“Yeah, it’s like a project with some friends of mine. We’re doing short works, adapting works by our favourite playwrights into 5 minute plays. Anyway, sorry I don’t mean to bore you with my stuff…”

“Not at all. It sounds interesting, where are you doing this project…”

You ended up speaking on the phone for another forty minutes or so. He asked you a bunch of questions about your project, sounding you out as you told him what you were working on, sharing some thoughts. Talking to him was so easy, you once again forgot all about “Adam: Award-Winning Movie Star” and he was just “Adam”. A theatre geek like you, with a fondness for goofy dogs.

Eventually, he had to go.

“I’m so hungry. I had six hours of training, I think I could just eat my whole fridge. Metal and all.” He said, jokingly.

“Haha! Ok, I’ll let you go and eat. And see you on Friday. With Moose.”

“Yes. I’m looking forward to it. To seeing Moose.” He said, you could hear him smile down the phone. “And seeing you.”

He left the words hanging. You stared at your phone wide-eyed. You were silent.

“Hello? Amy did you…?”

You cleared your throat.

“I’m here. Yes, I’m looking forward to it too. I’ll see you then. Don’t… choke on your fridge”.

You hung up.

Dumbstruck.

What was that?

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a good, interesting conversation, and there had been… flirting. The little jokes. The shared humour. It all felt, so… natural. And yet so weird.

You called Rose immediately.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter, I'm so long away from writing I found it really plodding. This chapter is really a set-up mechanism, but hopefully I will get more into my groove as we go along. On the plus side, I am now without a job because of Coronavirus, so I have LOTS of time to write and should be able to post more often! Thanks so much to those who took time to read chapter 1, and have liked and commented so far, I am completely grateful and pleasantly surprised and welcome any and all feedback!


	3. House visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Moose finally gets adopts. A hot dog bed is a thing. Wine and secrets are shared.  
> ***  
> I still don't own, know, or have anything to do with Adam Driver. This is pure, invented stuff. In this universe Adam is single and never married.  
> ***  
> The New York apartment I imagine here is a combination of all the apartments here: [here](https://www.apartmenttherapy.com/5-beautiful-new-york-lofts-to-dream-about-245641?utm_source=pinterest&utm_medium=tracking&utm_campaign=inline-img-share)  
> ***  
> The Oscar Mayer hot dog bed: https://www.amazon.co.uk/MUMENG-Hot-dog-4-60lbs-Removable-washable/dp/B06Y2Z69RV  
> ***  
> Adam Driver pics to inspire this chapter: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738159261/  
> and  
> https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738159221/

Friday took an eternity to roll around.

Between your bizarrely lengthy phone call with Adam earlier that week, and Friday morning, you’d texted him a couple of times, just Moose content, both of which he responded to with all caps expletives of enthusiasm and full of typos. Adam Driver did not seem the guy who was used to using technology – he certainly wasn’t on any social channels.

_You laughed to yourself at how insane the celebrity gossip channels would go if he ever opened an Instagram and posted pictures of Moose. The internet might actually break. You felt like you were guarding some ridiculous secret._

On your Wednesday morning walk with Rose and the dogs through Brooklyn Bridge Park, Moose had spent five minutes jumping up at the side of a gelato cart, woofing with unbridled joy and making it wobble precariously, much to your embarrassment as the guy running it kept trying to serve customers without dropping their scoops. You’d sent Adam a short video of the moment, Moose’s tail wagging like crazy, jumping up and down at the cart. Eventually a splodge of vanilla had dropped on the ground and Moose had lunged at it at lightspeed.

“Watch out”, you texted with the video, “Moose will wrestle you like Hulk Hogan for food.”

He’d responded a couple of hours later with,

“MOOSE IS AMAZING. I FUCKING NEED THS DOG IN MY LIFE. HE WLL GET FED SO MCH GELATO. I WOULD WRESTLY WITH HIM ALL DAY. THANKS FOR THIS. ADAM”

You could not get the image of Adam wrestling, full stop, out of your head for most of the day.

On the Thursday, Adam had texted you as you walked to the university library. You nearly dropped your phone on the pavement.

“HOW IS MY SCAVENGER? I BOUGHT HIM FOOD BOWLS AND SOME STUFF ALREADY. SEEMED LKE THE RIGHT THING.”

You could see the three little * _typing_ * dots continue flashing. It was taking forever.

_What was he writing, a book??_

Then two slightly shaky photos popped up after what seemed like ten minutes. He’d clearly been trying to work out the camera function. You died inside, it was adorable.

The first picture was of two enormous dog food bowls, carved out of what looked like some kind of expensive dark wood. Hand carved. With MOOSE engraved on both. They were gorgeous.

It took you a while to figure out the second picture. It looked like… a giant… hot dog?

_Wait…_

_Oh!_

You burst out laughing in the street. It was an ‘Oscar Mayer hotdog’ dog bed, like a giant soft-play hotdog bun with the bed bit where normally the sausage would be.

“THAT. IS. HILARIOUS.” You wrote back, mimicking his all caps. “That is all the vetting we need. He’s yours. I don’t even need to do the introduction house visit. You can have him based entirely on this choice of dog bed.”

You were still chuckling to yourself when he wrote back.

“OH BUT STILL DO THE HOUSE VISIT. THEN I GET TO GIVE YOU THAT BOOK.”

You stopped giggling and did a double take.

Was he… wanting to see you? Regardless of the dog? I mean, you could probably get the book on Amazon…

You shook the question out of your head.

 _Stupid. He just wants to see Moose._

And jogged up the stairs to the library to study for the rest of the day.

***

Friday morning you got up at stupid o’clock. Despite it being summer you were still wide awake before the sun was fully up. You had a small knot in the base of your stomach. You looked at your watch, you weren’t due to head to Adam’s until 4 o’clock – you knew you were going to feel slightly nervous and excited all day and immediately got busy to try and distract yourself.

You went for a really long run, covering so many laps you could barely stand up straight. You sang your head off in the shower after, knocking out a pretty awful-sounding medley of Aretha Franklin hits, getting all the nervous energy out. You went to the library and procrastinated over your dissertation for several hours, getting up every half hour to go to the bathroom or pick up a frappucino.

You texted Rose. You texted Rose again. You picked at your fingernails.

At 1pm you went for your shift at the dog pound and Rose met you at reception, with yet another Frappucino.

_This much coffee and my eyes will be rolling out my sockets by the time I get to Adam’s you thought._

“You ok?”

“I’m being ridiculous. I’m actually nervous. It’s so stupid. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“It’s excitement. Come on, he’s cute. No, scratch that, he’s smoking hot. He’s MR. HOTTEST ACTOR LIVING. AND you get to check out his apartment. AND hang out. AAAAND basically, I happen to think he might want to see you as much as he might want to see his prospective pet…”

You’d chewed over your phone call and messages with forensic scrutiny with her the previous days at your favourite bar.

“Oh, bullshit. We’re not going to “hang out”. It’s all about Moose. He’s just being friendly. Plus, I’m just a massive dork. You think he doesn’t have half of Hollywood’s darlings on speed-dial?”

You said it mostly to vocalise your fear, even though – despite your scant time spent talking to him, he really didn’t come across as that type.

Rose rolled her eyes and went to busy herself with a couple who had walked in.

At 3 o’clock you went to get Moose from his kennel. He’d been given a wash and groom that morning by Rose, and when he saw you coming, you felt like he knew what was going on. He practically launched into your arms and almost knocked you over when you let him out, covering you with nuzzles and dog licks.

You picked up a small grab bag with a home vetting form (you already assumed his apartment would meet the ‘space’ requirements” but this was protocol), dog treats, Moose’s blanket and his favourite chew toy, a now one-eyed T-Rex plushy.

It was time to reunite the new BFFs.

You got to Hicks Street and took in a deep breath. This was a far cry from your modest neighbourhood of Park Slope.

Hicks Street, Brooklyn Heights was quiet, leafy, sparkling – an elongated street of tall, trimmed elm trees, elegant rising brownstones and boutique cafes. It had taken you about 40 minutes to walk there from the dog rescue; you naturally wanted to check the area out. Brooklyn Heights wasn’t a neighbourhood you had reason to visit too often except when your Mom took you for dinner, on that rare family bonding occasion you tried to keep to a minimum.

You got to number 154 and inhaled sharply. It was gorgeous, a tall stoop leading to a large black door, potted olive trees on either side of the entrance. The brownstone was about seven stories high, but you noted only three buzzers by the entrance. You knew his was the ground floor apartment, from the address Adam had pinged, but noted the doorbell just said “Mr. A. Non”. You smiled, rolled your eyes and rang.

The door buzzed you in.

It was cool inside as you stepped into a large foyer with marbled checker tiled flooring and a huge spiral staircase leading up to a glass domed skylight in the roof. You head a door click at the end of the hall and Moose immediately went wild and pulled you down the corridor.

“MOOSE!!!”

You saw a head poke out from the doorway at the end of the hall, a shabby mess of gorgeous thick dark curls, then Adam fully stepped out as Moose dragged you to the doorway.

“AMY! Hi!” He barely had time to get the words out before Moose leapt into his huge arms and the pair hugged like old war buddies. As Moose wriggled about in Adam’s arms you tried to reach up and unclip his leash so they could be more comfortable.

Adam was trying to speak to you, between mad grinning and Moose face licks.

“Hi, OH MY GOD I’M SO HAPPY TO SEE THIS CRAZY BOY! Are you ok, want me to get that?”

He fumbled around and met your hand struggling to get a grip on Moose’s collar as his head whipped about and his tail wagged in your face. The pair of you were laughing hard.

“I’ve got it!” You exclaimed “He’s been so excited, he practically flew here. I feel like I’ve run a marathon” you joked.

“Come in! Come in! Yes, Moose, you crazy dog, yes, I am SO GLAD TO SEE YOU TOO!” He had such a goofy voice when speaking to Moose it was like a cartoon. He was nuzzling Moose’s neck and trying to take the dog bag from you at the same time.

You finally stepped in to the apartment, took off your jacket and had time to take it, him, all in.

First, Adam. Who finally put Moose down and squatted on his knees to rub his belly. He was dressed casually, barefoot, in a pair of black jeans and a fitted grey tshirt that hugged his ridiculously broad chest in all the right places. His hair was mussed and slightly damp as if he’d just come out the shower. You bit your bottom lip. He looked positively delicious.

You then took in the apartment. It was huge. You were standing in a long, open plan kitchen, dining, and living space, all raw oak wood flooring, exposed brick walls, stone kitchen and leather. A kitchen island dominated the front part of the room, a huge soft brown leather corner sofa took up the living space, facing an open fireplace at one end and an entire wall of book cases taking up the side wall. You could see steps leading down at the back of the room to what you assumed was a rear garden. A spiral metal stair case led to a gallery floor above.

There were green plants everywhere, and a vintage juke box in a corner.

Above the fireplace and on the walls you noted an Edward Hopper print, a James Turrell landscape and a series of Cy Twombly exhibition prints.

It was, quite simply, stunning.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You felt a warm breath on the back of your neck and realised Adam was standing right behind where you were leaning against the kitchen island where you’d stopped to put down your bag. You came out of your reverie and took in a sharp inhale.

“Oh! Um, yes. Thanks. Just… water. Water is fine.”

He was already leaning round you, stretching a long, muscular arm around past your body to turn the tap on from the double sink in front of you and grabbing a glass from the drying rack. You could feel the warmth coming off him.

“No problem.” He finished filling the glass from the tap and turned it off, leaving the glass in front of you, then turning back to Moose who was chasing his tail.

“I’ve got beers too, if you want. And there might be some wine, I don’t know. Or, whatever. I don’t know if you’re allowed ‘on the job’” You turned slowly, hoping your burning cheeks weren’t too obvious.

He was grinning right at you, straight in the eye, one hand still scratching Moose on the head.

You looked bewildered for a moment, then slowly smiled back. You could do with the wine. It might calm your nerves, you thought. _Just the one…_

“You know what? I don’t think a glass of wine would hurt… If you’re having one too?”

“Oh, sure! Yes. Why not. I can’t let you drink alone. Call it a toast. To Moose! My fucking hero!” He smiled down at Moose. Then looked back at you, face stern and serious all of a sudden. “Just let me know whatever I have to do to guarantee this adoption. Seriously, I’m not trying to bribe you… Well, maybe a little.”

You looked back at him, looking as stern and strict as you could muster, and furrowed a brow. Then slowly said,

“Well, I don’t know Mr. Driver. Trying to inebriate me to curry favour. Openly flaunting a day-time drinking habit. It’s not looking good for you right now.”

He looked back and did a small swallow, before you broke into a smile and he started giggling.

“Ha, good one.”

You started to relax as he opened his refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white, and grabbed two glasses from a shelf above him.

“Honestly, Adam, this bit is purely a formality. I think we both know you guys get along well. Space is… not a problem. You seem like a pretty… active guy, Moose needs a LOT of exercise and running. Really all I need to know is some basic stuff – arrangements you can make for when you’re not here, I need to give you Moose’s history and make sure you’re ok with it. Then you sign the papers and that’s that. He can move in straight away, really.”

Moose was looking between the two of you, wagging his tail furiously as the focus was off of him for all of two minutes. Adam walked over and handed you the wine, looked you right in the eye and clinked glasses.

“Oh my god, I’m literally the happiest dude on earth right now. Well, cheers! To Moose! And to you, for making sure I chose the right dog.” You both smiled. 

“Oh, that was ALL you. But, yes, I’ll definitely cheers to Moose.”

You took a gulp of the sweet wine, then went over and knelt down to Moose and gave him a huge hug.

“Moose, you’re going to be a good dog for Adam, ok?”

Adam came over and knelt down beside you and you both played with Moose as he rolled over onto his back begging for tummy rubs. Neither of you could resist.

“I’m so gone. Seriously, people talk about their kids like it’s the purest love. Are you kidding? For the first time, I am TOTALLY getting what they’re talking about. ” He beamed at you. You smiled back, and his hand brushed yours as you were both scratching Moose’s belly. You blushed and got up quickly.

“Can I… use the bathroom?”

“Oh, sure. Just at the end, before the stairs.”

Your face was on fire.

You had to splash some water on it, cool down and pull yourself together so you could go over the papers. You were also worried if you didn’t take a breather to calm down you might drink all the wine in five minutes.

The bathroom was – basically the size of your apartment. A huge walk-in shower stood at one end, black marble tiled. A stack of fluffy towels sat on a bamboo shelving rack under another shelf of grooming products, an electric shaver, and a pair of glasses. _Glasses?_ You noted Aesop hand soap and a fancy looking bottle of hair product. You wanted to smell everything.

_Oh my god, that is so creepy._

You laughed.

_I’m like a teenager with a high school crush!_

You couldn’t resist though. You leaned in and inhaled deeply the scent of one of the towels. It smelled faintly of sandalwood.

_Dammit that smells good. Fucking kill me already._

You took a long look at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t believe you were here. Drinking wine. In Adam Driver’s apartment. It was all surreal, and yet, at the same time, you felt like you’d known him for ages. Your brain couldn’t scramble that together.

You took a breath. Straightened your blouse. Took a long look in the mirror.

You’d opted for casual “not trying to hard” – which of course you’d totally “tried” for. White linen blouse, top two buttons undone. A pair of ripped jeans. Red converse. Your long auburn hair was tied up in a “messy but actually styled” bun, held up by an elaborately tied Japanese print silk handkerchief your father had gifted you, from a work trip he’d taken, before he had passed away. You rarely wore make-up but had donned some mascara and a faint lick of gold shadow to bring out your green eyes. You pulled back your shoulders and stood tall.

_Ok. I look good. This isn’t weird. He’s just a guy. You’re totally just here to do a home visit. There’s nothing to see here. You’re not remotely melting inside…. OK, maybe a little. Well… in that case. Fuck it. You only live once, right?_

You finished your pep talk to yourself, willed the butterflies in your stomach away, and walked tall out of the bathroom.

When you walked back in you noticed Adam and Moose had moved to the living area, Adam was stretched on the sofa with Moose curled up beside him, chewing on his T-rex toy. The wine bottle sat on the table, and both your glasses were there too.

“He looks so at home.” You smiled as you settled back down on the couch opposite, moving slightly nearer to Adam, without it feeling awkward.

“I bought him so many toys already. I kind of went crazy in this pet store. Did you like the hot dog bed?”

“Best thing ever. He’ll probably chew it to shreds in a week though!” You laughed and drank more of the wine. You felt comfortable now. “OK. I need to give you Moose’s history, then it’s really a signature on the papers and if you feel ready, I can leave him here today and I’ll be on my way.”

“Really? Cool. Sure. Totally ready. And… no rush. I mean, unless you have somewhere to be, we can… finish the wine at least.”

“Oh. Sure! I’d, I’d really like that.”

“Cool. Good.” He looked at you with such intensity, you pulled the papers out of the grab bag which he’d also brought over, to have somewhere else to look with your eyes.

“So. A bit of background. I think I told you when you visited the centre, but Moose’s last owners were basically… well, assholes. He was kicked a lot growing up, so he has a few breathing issues from a lung injury. He’s fine now, but can get breathless after a really intense run, and if there’s a lot of pollen he needs to take some medication to ease his breathing…”

You ran through his history and went through the list of medication and vaccinations Moose had. You asked Adam about arrangements he could make if he had to travel. He didn’t reveal much, but he said he had a neighbour who loved dogs who could dog sit, and that he wasn’t travelling much for the foreseeable anyway. You didn’t question further.

He was leaning in and paying so much attention it was like he was studying for a role. Eventually, you just handed him the paper to sign. He scrawled his name elegantly at the bottom. The deal was done.

“A second toast!” Adam declared, hugging Moose beside him and topping up your wine.

You realised you were curled in on the sofa so comfortably like you’d hung out a hundred times. It just felt… good.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” He suddenly jumped up and jogged over to the bookcase where he picked up a book he’d clearly left out to one side. He bounded back over and handed it to you. It was a collection of unpublished Sam Shepherd plays and early writings. It looked well thumbed through.

“I bought it when I was at Julliard, at this amazing book store in Williamsburg. It’s got stuff in there that he wrote when he was just starting out as a playwright. I don’t know, I loved it. It’s great if you’re working on anything by him, just helps you get into his head a bit. It’s nice to see how he progressed too. I just thought you might like it.”

You leafed through. It contained loads of handwritten notes, Adam’s careful scrawl. You looked humbled.

“This is really thoughtful. Thank you. I’ll enjoy this. I can, um, post it back to you when I’m done.”

He looked at you like you’d said the dumbest thing ever.

“Oh, no. For starters, you can have it. It’s yours. But… you know, if you really want to return it you can bring it back here whenever, in person. Besides, I was kind of hoping to read your adaptation, when you’re done with it. If you’d let me?” He sounded tentative.

It was your turn to look confused.

“Oh… ok. I mean, I don’t know. It might suck. But, maybe you can give me some pointers? I mean, really? You want to read it?”

“Sure.” He grinned, like wanting to read your work was the most natural thing to him in the world.

Moose was snoozing in the crook of his arm. You had to ask, after you took another sip of wine.

“I’m flattered. I just…I. You smirked, looking at the table. “I don't know... I just figured.... your life, um, is probably pretty busy, events and parties or whatever...You probably go to the theater a lot, so why you'd want to read my... um. Anyway”

You were starting to ramble and felt your cheeks heat, looking sheepish as you trailed off.

Adam took a gulp of his wine and again turned on his intense face. It was like a switch. Disarming, if a little intimidating. Then he looked down, his eyes suddenly downcast, almost sorrowful. He curled his feet together and rubbed his knees.

“I'd like to read it. I have time now, and I'm interested." He ddin't mince his words or hesitate. "I… um, the events thing is...yeah I mean, there's events for sure. When I'm promoting, it gets pretty heavy, I won't lie. But... uh, I’m not the most socially... ‘out there’ guy. I guess. Sure, I mean I have a lot of friends in theatre, film, people I’ve worked with, work with now. I’ve been working non-stop for three years now, movies and… whatever. Like, I see people, all the time. When I’m training, working, whatever. It’s actually exhausting. But really, I don’t _know_ that many people in New York. As in, non-work people. That I really know and that I can hang out with, without it being always about the current job, or the next job, or what I’m promoting. And those I do have, are also always busy. We don’t hang out so often, except maybe work events. And I’m just not actually really into… the parties and shit. It’s not my scene. I go when I'm promoting, because I'm contractually obligated, or because it's a meeting my agent set up, because it’s what you do, but not voluntarily.”

He went quiet. You didn’t want to interrupt as it looked like he wasn’t done. He stroked Moose on the head, like a comfort. Then he looked back up at you.

“It’s why I got Moose I guess, someone to listen to all my bullshit who won't talk back, but is always a friend." He smirked, rubbing the back of his head. "I’m probably not the easiest guy to hang out with, sometimes... I’m not into all the usual shit or up on trends or what’s the latest thing, I don't really follow..." he waved his hand vaguely in the air "whatever, what's 'cool'... I’m not “that cool guy”, but dogs. Dogs are cool. They always love you regardless. And talking to you, I don’t know. Your enthusiasm for the writing, you have a quirky sense of humour.” He smiled out the corner of is mouth. “I guess I recognise something of myself in you. Or I want to. You’re easy to talk to. It feels relaxing. I don’t feel like… there’s an agenda with you. Is that weird? Sorry, I guess, I'm rambling... we don't really know each other but... ”

You looked at him softly. You suddenly got a sense that he was actually quite lonely. Not in a sad desperate way, not like a Billy-no-mates, he clearly had close friends but never got to see them. He also clearly didn’t mind his own company, enjoyed his time, but you got that silent sense that the Hollywood world he now inhabited, seemingly so effortlessly, was actually alien to him, and so all-engrossing it gets in the way of normal. To him it was just another part of the job for him to navigate. A part he really didn’t like and maybe hadn't found someone to ground him away from that life.

You found the intensity of the silence suddenly stifling, and reverted to your safety zone, breaking it with humour.

“Well, actually, my only agenda was to FINALLY get rid of this terrible dog. Mission accomplished.”

Adam didn’t smile. He just looked at you, still quiet, but with a softness. You realised you didn’t need to feel uncomfortable, or crack a joke. _Just be yourself._

“It's not weird. I mean... if you really have time I’d be very happy if you wanted to read my work. Some honest feedback would be... really great. I don’t… I don’t understand the world you live in. I mean, yes I went to Julliard, and I have trotted the acting scene a bit...But uh, let’s face it, that’s about where our lives’ similarities end. But, I’ve seen enough friends who did graduate and went on into real acting careers where it all got too much. They turned into total divas, or drunks. Or I just don't see them anymore. It’s usually one or the other. I lost touch. They’re hard to spend time with now. And I don't really follow...um, gossip news or whatever, I don't do social media and they only seem to communicate that way so... yeah, I guess I sometimes feel a bit lost in this world too, a bit left of centre. And, my few friends in the city now are also work people. So I am on my own, a lot. Most times it's good. Great even. But sometimes... see this is why I'd love a dog. Probably why I took the pound job.” You let out a bashful laugh, embarrassed. 

He looked at your more intensely, pouring the last of the wine into your empty glass. He nodded gently, acknowledging that what you said was how he felt.

“You’re way more articulate than me.” He said, giving you a sweet smile and running his hand through his hair. “And touch wood, so far, I’ve made it without being a diva. Or a drunk.” He bit his lip and threw his head back smiling, “Although I was a total freaking asshole at Julliard…”

You continued on, spurred in confidence by his smile, and the wine.

“You don’t strike me as that anymore”. You grinned. “I guess what I’m saying, which I think is what you’re trying to say, is… yeah, I’d love it if you read my work. And it's been fun, really, to talk theatre with you, books, um... hanging out. New York can be a tough city, isolating. And no, I don’t have an agenda. I mean, sure I was a little thrown when you walked into the centre, it was just funny, seeing the “this” you, when I'm used to seeing you on billboards, or... I mean, on screen. But whatever... But... If you want to read my work and maybe give me some pointers, or, I don't know, if you want to just ever eat pizza and talk, I can do that.”

“I like pizza.” Adam said. And laughed. But you knew he meant many more things than that. Something passed between you in those last moments.

Moose suddenly woke from his slumber and jumped off the sofa, suddenly all fidgety again. He knelt in front of Adam and put a paw on his knee.

You both broke out of the slightly intense conversation and watched Moose – he so brilliant diffused the atmosphere back to lightness.

“YOU, BEAUTIFUL FREAKING THING! YES! Well, I should give Moose the grand tour - I can’t wait to show him all his toys. Wanna come?”

_How could you resist?_

You both walked down to the end of the room to the stairs leading into a garden you just got a glimpse of. Half way down the steps was a small mezzanine floor with a room leading off it. Like a large games room, it had a billiard table, more books and a stash of vinyl records, then one half was set up like a home gym with a stack of weights and bits of gym kit, swiss ball and a weight bench. It was meticulously tidy. _Hangover from his military days_ , you thought. But in the corner was the ridiculous Hot Dog bed, with a whole doggy set up. The food bowls were out, there was a massive play mat already littered with tennis balls and squeaky toys and on a set of coat hooks above, were three different dog leads and a hanging travel bag already heaving with treats.

“This is so cute” you laughed.

“It’s cool, right?” Adam said, looking very proud of himself.

Moose – meanwhile – had lost his shit and was trying to play with ALL the toys at once.

You watched for a moment as the two of them played, then suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You’d forgotten you even had it with you.

You looked at the screen. Two things hit you. One, it was seven o’clock. You’d been there three hours and hadn’t even realised. Two, it was Rose, and you remembered you had been due to go back to the pound after dropping off Moose to help her lock up and go for a drink.

“Shit!”

Adam whipped around. Looking more concerned than he should. “You ok?”

“Yes. Yes, just. It’s seven o’clock. I’m REALLY supposed to be helping my friend right now! Shit!”

“Oh, shoot. Ok, go, go, I’ve got Moose. We’re all ok here. Sorry, I didn’t notice the time.”

“Don’t apologise, I didn’t either. I was… anyway. I’ve gotta go. Um, thanks for the wine. I love what you’ve set up for Moose. I’ll um…”

You walked back up to get your bag and coat with Adam following behind, making sure you had everything. He looked… was it, disappointed (?) that you had to leave so suddenly.

“So, uh, I guess I can text you, let you know how Moose gets on in the next few days?" His eyebrows raised, expectantly. "He’s going to miss you, I guess it will be a bit weird for him for a while adjusting. But… thanks. For the conversation. For... yeah, everything.”

He looked at your softly.

“Oh. Really, my pleasure. I enjoyed it too.”

You rolled your cotton jacket up in your hands, and went for the door. But he got there before you, leaning in close and reaching around you to unlock the deadbolt, his broad frame towering over you as he looked down, a lock of his chocolate hair falling into his eyes. That warmth again, seeping off him, causing a hitch in your breath and the hairs on your arms to shiver. His eyes burned into you, and the smallest curve of a smile caught in his face.

“I’ll see you again.” He said, in a slow languid drawl as he opened the door. He looked eagerly at you, but it wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, and looked up to meet his gaze. You wanted to reach out and tuck the curl of his hair back off his face, but just stood and fumbled with your jacket in your hand.

“I hope so.” you breathed, barely getting the words out. Then you ducked out the door and made for the front entrance, feeling his eyes on you as you walked away.

Your head spun.

_What was that???_

It had been YEARS since you’d felt even the flutter of attraction to someone. Your last recollection of anything resembling a close relationship had ended violently, a human car crash. You’d been emotionally closed for years.

Your heart was beating in your chest. You didn’t know what had just happened, but there was an electricity in that room that felt completely new. And exciting. And terrifying. And – despite any previous misconceptions. You were pretty sure he had felt it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO overwhelmed by the kind comments and kudos so far. Writing this is really helping me deal with living alone under lockdown and all the madness of this moment. I REALLY hope you like this chapter, I feel I am getting into a groove now and we start to see a bit more of personality development. Like I said, slow burn, but I like romance with my smut... and a bit of angst, so just keep digging in! As always, feedback, comments, anything is great! And I hope you are all staying safe and well and at home x


	4. Barbecues and Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we FINALLY get a first kiss. After some PLOT, people!!!  
> ***  
> Barbecues are lit. Plays are read. Moose plays frisbee.  
> ***  
> Still don't own, know, have anything to do with Adam Driver. This is still pure fluffy fiction. Places are inspired by real places. Medea by Simon Stone and Fool for Love by Sam Shepherd are real plays, I have borrowed dialogue from the latter, because I am not a playwright and can't do my own, but credit all goes to him.  
> ***  
> Adam is single in this universe.  
> ***  
> Brooklyn backyard gardens inspired by this pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/jmridenour2/brooklyn-backyard/  
> ***  
> Adam photo inspiration for this chapter: https://www4.pictures.zimbio.com/pc/Adam+Driver+Scenes+Girls+Set+Ti6I_9fMHaDl.jpg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I ended up writing twice as may words as intended and only got HALF of the intended action for this chapter out. Which means there's a whole chapter 5 shaping in my brain already. 
> 
> Still a slow burn, this is early innocent days lovely Driver fans! 
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and the lovely, kind comments. Again, I love any feedback and am so flattered people are taking the time to read this. Hopefully you will enjoy chapter 4!

Chapter 4.

And then it all crashed to a halt.

Whatever deluded fantasy you had thought was living out during those short few hours at Adam’s apartment, that you thought might lead to somewhere – you weren’t sure where - seemed to have dwindled into nothingness as you heard nothing from him over the next days.

Part of you debated whether you expected anything at all anyway. Nothing had happened, _really_.

You’d done the home visit. Had some wine. Chit chatted. Made sure Moose was ok, then left.

What were a few looks and comfortable silences, anyway? The guy was an actor; he would be comfortable in any kind of encounter. He was effortlessly charming. You imagined anyone who spent five minutes in his company would feel his energy, his charisma, his overwhelming presence, even when he was doing nothing, just being. So you were really nothing special.

He didn’t owe you anything.

Now you were left again with that odd feeling of disassociating what you knew and what was out in the world.

And he was suddenly everywhere, like you had never noticed before.

On NETFLIX, his face poked out from under a cowboy hat looking back at you from “Netflix Recommends: Inside Llewyn Davis”. Throwback posts popped up on Facebook from the Sag-Aftra Foundation, which you followed like any other desperate actor-in-the-making, “Adam Driver career retrospective: now on Youtube”. Black-and-white Adam gazed at you from a magazine front cover at your local news kiosk, all immaculate and glossy and slick and Hollywood handsome. Surreal. Distant. A fantasy.

All you could think of was “jeans-and-tshirt-Adam” sprawled on his sofa, all crumpled hair and ungroomed softness, quiet, thinking, giggling, unrehearsed, unstudied, occasionally awkward, and beautiful.

A week had gone by since you’d last met that Adam.

***

“Earth to Amy???”

Rose drew you out of your millionth journey into whatever daydream world you were floating into that day.

“I’m sorry”, you said, “my brain is just….” You gathered your thoughts and went back to whatever mindless admin task you were working on at the reception computer.

“I know, I know. It’s weird.” Rose said, laying a reassuring hand on your shoulder “It sucks. But hey… plenty more fish in the sea! I mean… I did _actually_ think he would get in touch. By what you told me, it sounded like there was an interest there. I don’t get it. But then… I don’t get MEN in general….”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You gazed at the floor, “My sole experience of men is one monumental asshole who destroyed my heart and one who was adorable, but turned out to be gay…”

You both looked at each other and burst out laughing. Thank god for Rose.

“Well, at least we can’t accuse Adam Driver of being either of those things.” She smiled.

“This is true. I just almost wish he’d never walked in here. Making my brain hurt!”

You both burst out laughing again.

“At least we have each other!” You laughed “I say we take ourselves to the bar later and commiserate together. I need a break from my scriptwriting anyway, I can’t face it anymore.”

“Sure! Sounds like a plan”, Rose agreed, “I’m trying to avoid a family reunion, bar crawling sounds way more fun. How’s the script thing going anyway?”

“Good. I’m just struggling with the fine-tuning. But we have a performance scheduled though! You should come. I mean, it’s a really small theatre but at least we get to actually perform it!”

“No way? That’s so cool! Of COURSE I’ll be there. I’ll bring my flatmates! When is it?”

“Thanks so much. It’s at 13th Street Rep Theatre, next Tuesday. 7pm opening. I’d appreciate it so much. I haven’t been on stage in a year, I’m pretty nervous.”

“You’ll be awesome, girl. Also, what better distraction from idiot men?!”

 _Indeed_ , you thought. 

***

It was 9pm that evening, Rose had just ordered a second bottle of wine as you both sat, cramped at a tiny table in the corner of The Owl’s Head wine bar – your favourite drinking spot in Brooklyn.

You’d been telling her about your awful ex-, you rarely spoke about him as he’d left so many scars, but given your current state of feeling generally disappointed you felt the need to get it out there.

In short, after a brief, wild period of intense courtship, when you’d been fed every phony romance story under the sun and showered with gifts and – what you now realised – were generic platitudes and borrowed words from other people – you’d discovered that the so called “perfect guy” you’d started dating was actually a possessive, jealous, mentally abusive nut job. It had begun with him questioning your every move. Insinuations, snarky comments, jealous rages. Then he tried to cut you off from your friends, refusing to meet them, berating you for spending time with them, accusing you of affairs. You were already facing blows and rejection in the theatre world, so your confidence had been so low you’d gone along with this additional level of abuse. When he apologised, and made it up to you it was always over the top, pathetic, overwhelming, and you succumbed. Then it started all over again. You’d finally found the strength to leave him, one night, as he slept. Just walked out. Never looked back. That was 18 months ago, but it had left many scars.

Relationships, or closeness to other people was something you’d been actively avoiding since.

Rose gave you a hug. She’d watched you blossom since you’d started your university course, your work at the dog rescue. She’s seen you throw yourself into your work, your creative side. She knew you’d come out of this better, stronger. But right now, she just saw your confused disappointment.

Rose hugs were good. Wine was good. You’d be ok.

Your phone lit up in the darkened bar.

It was Adam.

***

“HI! I MEANT TO CONTACT YOU SOONER. I’M OUT OF TOWN, HUDSON VALLEY. SHITTY RECEPTION. SORRY. BUT I’M BACK THIS WEEKEND. TURNS OUT MOOSE ALSO LIKES PIZZA. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SHARE SOME WITH US? SATURDAY? ADAM.”

You both stared at the phone like it had an alien life form growing out of it.

You looked at Rose.

You looked back at the phone.

She gaped.

“So…. a week of silence… then…. IS HE ASKING YOU ON A DATE???”

You stared at the phone again. Then broke into a grin.

“Oh-kaaaay… NOT what I expected!” you gasped.

“Um, that is a date invitation. Also, does he not know how to write in normal sentences?” Rose asked.

“Actually, no.” You giggled “I really think he’s technologically stuck in the middle ages. I mean, I don’t think he really knows how to use his phone at all. It’s like he’s stuck on all caps. I have this vision where he’s just yelling all the messages out loud.”

You both snort with laughter.

“Well, between him being a tech luddite, and being stuck in the middle of nowhere – seriously, Hudson Valley is beautiful, but it is REMOTE – at least he has an excuse for not being in touch. Also, he’s ‘sorry’?? Oh, girl. I take back whatever I said. He’s definitely been thinking about you!”

You didn’t want to believe that much, but hearing from him warmed your heart. You were suddenly flooded with relief and not a small amount of butterflies in your stomach.

Hell yes, you wanted pizza. You wanted Adam eating pizza. You wanted Adam Douglas Driver, pizza be damned. And you missed Moose like crazy.

***

{Later. Texting…}

*typing*

“Hi! Hudson Valley sounds like a nice getaway? I’m always up for pizza. Saturday sounds good to me. How is Moose? He is very missed at the centre. Amy.”

 _Casual. Chill. No heart-palpitations here_ , you thought.

You’d waited until you got home before texting back. As much as you loved Rose you didn’t want to have to analyse and overthink and spend the whole evening deconstructing text messages. You needed your headspace. This needed privacy.

*ping*

“COOL! HOW’S 4PM? H.V WAS WORK. PRETTY INTENSE, BUT COOL. MOOSE IS MY MASCOT, HE’S SUCH A GOOD TRAINING BUDDY. HE SAYS HELLO.”

*typing dots…*

*ping*

A slightly blurry selfie of Adam came through, grey sleeveless vest and baseball cap on. Eyes wide, mouth in a soft ‘o’ with a slightly surprised look, as if he’d just realised the photo had taken. He’d clearly taken it earlier that day. You wondered if he’d taken it just to text you? He was clearly in a forest somewhere, surrounded by trees. Out for a run. Moose was running beside him, tongue lolling out and jumping up towards the phone.

Your heart did a small flip. 

“I’M NOT REALLY GOOD AT SELFIES. I HATE PHONES! BUT MOOSE INSISTED.”

You grinned. You wanted to be swallowed into your sofa. You had so many questions. _Training for what? Where was he exactly?_ You wanted to know all the things, but you kept it calm.

You typed back.

“I’m glad he did! Good to see he is keeping you on your toes. Say hi back, give him a tummy rub. 4pm works fine for me.”

You hesitated. You were about to add something more when…

*ping*

“GREAT! I’LL DEFINITELY INDULGE HIM WITH TUMMY RUBS. HOPE YOU DON’T MIND IF WE HANG OUT AT MY PLACE? IT’S JUST MORE CHILLED… PRIVATE. I HOPE THE WRITING IS GOING WELL?”

You completely understood the privacy issue. And frankly, you weren’t even sure what this was beyond two people grabbing pizza, so the last thing you wanted to face was some sort of weird scenario where random people might come up to him in public with you there, and any sort of rumour or comment made. That was NOT something you’d enjoy and could only imagine how much he’d want to avoid it.

As for him checking in on your writing... _Maybe Rose was right? He cared._

Whatever that meant beyond friendliness.

You typed back:

“I don’t mind at all. I get it. I can pick up some dessert and wine on the way. Also, I have a final script you can read…”

*ping*

“THAT’S AWESOME! CONGRATULATIONS. I CAN’T WAIT TO READ IT. I’VE GOT TO GO. SEE YOU SATURDAY.”

*typing dots…*

“ADAM. X”

Your mouth made a small “oh”. He had NOT struck you as an X guy. You were thrown.

You smiled.

“See you then! I’m looking forward to it. A. x”

You hit send quickly before you overthought it.

Then went to bed, where you barely slept a wink.

***

You were jittery all day Saturday.

You’d messaged again a few times after your late night exchange – scant as you knew he was in a remote location, but he’d continued to check in with you, sharing pictures of Moose doing various cute dog things (rolling in leaves, jumping up at birds in trees and a hilarious one of Moose sat in a giant basket, his face wrapped up in a towel with the caption “E.T. home phone” in reference to the cult movie).

On Friday evening, he’d sent a short and sweet:

“BACK IN THE CITY. EXHAUSTED. HOPE YOU’RE STILL OK FOR TOMORROW? ADAM X”

 _As if I wouldn’t have cleared my diary_ , you laughed to yourself.

“Still on. Rest up! Looking forward to it. A x”

It was a hot, dry day that Saturday, with the rarest of New York breezes - pushing into the low 80s, sun blazing.

You put on a light green sleeveless linen dress and white espadrilles and scooped your hair up in a loose bun, your palms were sweaty and the back of your neck damp and nothing you’d tried on seemed comfortable so you’d given up on jeans or sleeved tops and opted for your go-to comfy summer outfit.

You grabbed your vintage red shades, a tub of tiramisu and two bottles of wine you’d picked up from your favourite local Italian deli and headed over to Hicks Street. You felt flustered and fidgety and willed your stomach to stop raging, hoping that as soon as his door opened you’d settle back into the reality of “real world” Adam that felt so incongruous otherwise.

His door swung open as you entered the coolness of his apartment corridor and he stepped out into the hall. You tried not to drop the wine as you did a small double take and sharp inhale of breath. He truly was beautiful.

He leaned towards you as you approached, breaking into a smile, his tall frame clad today in a plain, slim fitting white cotton t-shirt, light grey jeans scuffed around the ankles, a pair of black Vans.

6 foot 3 of handsome.

Not sure on the appropriate greeting, you thanked silently that he took the lead, his hand gently taking you by the elbow as leaned in and kissed you gently on both cheeks.

“Hey! It’s good to see you!” He breathed against your cheek, then pulled away, grinning and taking the wine bag out of your hands to let you into the apartment. You walked in quickly, turning to hide your burning cheeks.

_Oh boy, I’m blushing like a tomato. Kill me now._

If he noticed, he gracefully pretended not to, immediately ushering you down to the back of the living room to his rear garden.

“Where’s Moose?” You asked as you walked through to the back steps.

“He’s keeping watch over the barbecue!” Adam declared, not without a hint of pride and he looked back at you as he got to the back garden double doors and grinned.

“A barbecue? Oh, we’ve upgraded!” You grinned back, it was impossible to resist his big goofy face when it smiled so openly.

“Weeelllll, the weather is so good. Pizza kinda seemed lame when I thought about it. Plus, I’ve had this barbecue set for a whole year and never used it, and I really wanted to. I figured you could be my first guest of honour.” He opened the doors as you answered,

“I’m absolutely honoured. I’m so hungry too, this is awesome.”

He took you gently by the elbow again, his fingers soft against your skin, and walked you out into the spacious backyard.

The walled garden was half lawn, half-decked patio dominated by a large wooden, vine-covered trellis awning creating a shaded cover over a rattan garden sofa set centred around a stone fire pit. It was a beautiful space, you couldn’t even begin to fathom the difference between this and your cramped Park Slope apartment where you were lucky if the sticky living room window even opened fully, onto the glamorous view of the fire escape and the Chinese takeout place across your road.

Up against one wall of the garden, was a wood-fired barbecue, in front of which Moose sat, eyeing up the grill hungrily with his tail wagging furiously.

“Moose! Hey buddy!” You walked over to the dog who whipped around and came bounding over to you. You knelt down to scoop him into the biggest of hugs. You’d missed his face around the pound and loved how he nuzzled you and woofed softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh, I missed you so much! Is Adam being good to you?” You looked back at Adam over your shoulder and you shared a conspiratorial look.

“We went for a really long run this morning, I think I totally tired him out. He’s been napping for the last hour, until I got the barbecue going. Now he’s like the steak police, watching my every move.” he joked.

The easy familiarity was back. The knot in your stomach dissolved. You walked over to the sofa set, as Adam cracked open the wine and brought you over a glass. When he went to hand it to you, your fingers brushed and lingered just a second longer than necessary. You never broke eye contact.

“So…” you asked, as he fussed about taking covers off plates by the grill where steaks and all sorts of condiments were laid out – he’d evidently prepped everything in advance and you relished this idea of Adam getting all excited about cooking. “What’s in Hudson Valley? Can I ask? Or is it top secret?”

“Oh, sure.” He ran his hand through his mop of brown curls, and swallowed. “Honestly, it’s one of these things, it’s all embargoed because we haven’t done a press announcement yet. But basically, if it gets out now at least I’ll know it’s you. I mean, we’ll be forced to kill you but…”

He looked at you seriously for a moment, then giggled.

“I’ll sign all the NDAs.” You joked back. “I’ll tape my face. Lips sealed.”

“Ha! Ok! Well… I’m, uh, going back on Broadway, a play. There’s an actors’ training retreat up in the valley. I work with a coach there, body and movement work, vocal coaching, physical training, that kind of stuff. So I went to see him, go through the script and stuff. That’s why I’m back in New York, and sticking around, why there’s no movie work at the moment. I wanted a break – the last couple of years have been pretty intense - and this opportunity came up. I think it gets announced in a week or so.”

“Adam, that’s amazing! Congratulations! Your secret is safe with me, promise.”

You raised your glass in a toast. You were secretly thrilled to know he was definitely sticking around. _Not that for a minute that affects me_ , you thought. But also thrilled because theatre was your number one passion, you just knew he’d be electrifying to watch on stage.

He threw you such a genuine smile, like it mattered so much that you were happy about it. You melted slightly into your seat.

“What’s the production?” you asked, “Or do you have to kill me twice over for that?”

“Nope, I’d just have to bury you in this backyard.” he jokes, “just kidding, it’s Medea. A modern retelling, the script is by Simon Stone. It’s all set in modern day New York.”

“Oh, he’s superb! I saw Yerma in London last year. Amazing production. That’s wonderful! Who are you playing?”

“Lucas. He’s basically an abused husband, it’s a pretty intense role. The whole week with my coach we were just going through the character breakdown. It’s full on. I love it. Yerma was brilliant, I caught it when it came here off-Broadway.”

Adam came over to sit by you as he talked, taking the sofa opposite. He leaned in towards you, one arm along the top of the sofa almost reaching your shoulder, the other resting between his crossed legs, cradling his wine glass in his large hand, completely at ease in himself, sun glinting between the trellised awning and speckling his cheeks with dapples of light.

“When does it open?”

“Rehearsals formally start in July, we open in October. It’s running for 8 weeks, so it’ll be super exhausting, but I’ve missed theatre so much, I’m really glad to be back doing this.”

Moose had lolled back over to the sofa, and lay on the floor between you, his wet nose poking gently at your foot.

In the back of your mind, you wanted to close your eyes, reach out and trace the constellation of beauty marks on Adam’s cheeks, but instead you took another sip of your wine and swallowed down the heat at the back of your neck.

“So… I finished my script.” You said in a small voice. “The book really helped. Thank you, again.”

  
“You did? That’s great. You’re so welcome.” His eyes were locked on yours. “Would I be able to read it?”

He looked so eager all of a sudden. You gave him a gentle smile back.

“Well…It’s embargoed. There’s NDAs. I might have to kill you.” You joked.

“Touché”, he smiled into his wine glass.

“No seriously, I brought the script with me. I’m a bit embarrassed, I hate hearing my work out loud, but… if I drink enough of this wine, I might let you read it.”

He giggles and tops up your glass.

“Okay, that can be arranged. Food first?”

“Food first, it’s a deal.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m excited to read it. I know how it is to hate hearing your own work, but I can read it to myself if you don’t want to hear it aloud”

“No, no. It’s good to hear it aloud, I could use some pointers, honestly. Also its good to hear someone else read it, I’ve been too in my head.”

“Ok, only if you’re ok with that. I’ll help any way I can.”

You nodded, and agreed to let him read the script after eating, and both of you busied yourselves getting the steaks on the grill. You gently slid into an easy domesticity, enjoying the relative quiet of the garden, with just birdsong, the breeze through the overhanging tree branches from the neighbour’s garden and the distant rumble of traffic.

You offered to make a salad, while Adam worked the grill and he directed you to where things were in the kitchen. With Moose on your tails, you rifled around the kitchen pulling out peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, olive oil, bowls, bringing it all into the sun. You’d both kicked off your shoes at one point and were pattering about the grass and the patio bare foot.

At the long stone counter beside the grill, the pair of you moved easily around each other, bodies brushing together as you chopped and sliced, and he mixed marinades. You chattered about anything and everything, from the serious to the mundane – between sips of wine and shared looks and soft smiles. He talked about his theatre prep, asked about your week at work. He told you stories about his childhood, growing up in Indiana, you told him about your father – who was also a theatre lover before he had passed away, planting the seed that had developed into your life’s passion. He’d paused for a moment, noting the pain you still clearly felt as you spoke, missing your Dad. You’d looked up at him, a soft empathy in his eyes and he’d simply said,

“He’d be proud of you, of your play, your PhD. I have no doubt”. 

You’d simply nodded a thank you, but the moment stuck with you long after your friendly chatter started up again.

The steaks were on the grill, the wine flowing, the sun beating down as the early evening stretched before you. As you waited for the food to cook, you picked up a Frisbee you’d spotted and threw it for Moose to catch.

Adam joined in, the three of you breaking into a mad game of Frisbee mostly punctuated by laughing as Moose launched himself in the air, desperately trying to snatch the flying toy out of the air as you ran around.

The moment was perfect.

As you sat to eat, the sun had begun its slow waning in the sky, turning the garden a hazy shade of pink and gold light. The steaks were good, there was so much food. As you ate, both of you indulged Moose with scraps and chuckled as he scampered about the garden chasing bumblebees and bugs.

You’d eventually gotten the script out of your bag, and as Adam cleared away your plates and came out with the Tiramisu – no plates, just two spoons – you curled up, clearing your throat.

“What if we... can we read it together? It’s a duologue, so it would help me.”

“Sure. Even better. He grabbed the script from beside you on the sofa and laid the tiramisu between you as he sat down. The “serious Adam” switch had flicked on, even as he crammed the most heaped spoon of creamy tiramisu in the world into his mouth.

“Holy shit, this is good tiramisu!”

“The best. Da Luca’s in Greenwood. Fresh every morning.”

“Oh my god, it’s like crack.” Another spoon went it “I could eat this whole dish”

You laughed

“You’ve got half of it on your face”

“This is literally how I eat. I was being polite before. But I can’t hold back. This dessert is too good.”

“I could live with that”, you laughed back. Then realising you’d said it out loud, immediately went back to the matter at hand.

“Ok, so – it’s obviously a shortened adaptation, so I focused on the part when Eddie fights for May, fights with her. Threatens her dates."

“I know it. Ok, I’m Eddie.”

You started clunky, your breath erratic out of embarrassment, but as the lines flowed off the page, with Adam just reading the lines like he’d studied them for weeks, you eased into the rhythm of the words. It actually sounded pretty good. Eddie’s character flew into a rant. Adam stood up, clutching the script, but looking down at you. Moose even sat up to watch.

“ I'm not leavin'. I don't care what you think anymore. I don t care what you feel. None a' that matters. I'm not leavin'. I'm stayin' right here. I don't care if a hundred "dates" walk through that door- I'll take every one of 'em on. I don't care if you hate my guts. I don't care if you can't stand the sight of me or the sound of me or the smell of me. I'm never leavin'. You'll never get rid of me. I'll track you down no matter where you go. I know exactly how your mind works. I’ve been right every time.”

You just watched. You’d stopped reading your part. You were just happy to watch. Adam finished and waited patiently for you, not breaking. You went back to your page, and read the words for the character, MAY.

“You've gotta' give this up Eddie.”

“ I'm not giving it up!”

You stood up and squared up to Adam, leaning in close to him. Defiant. Angry. Resigned.

“Okay. Look. I don't understand what you've got in your head anymore. I really don't. I don't get it. Now, you desperately need me. Now, you can't live without me . Now, you'll do anything for me. Why should I believe it this time?

“ Because… it's true”.

You both stared each other out, Adam’s chest was rising and falling heavily, a slight sheen of sweat on his top lip. The evening heat had given way to city humidity and the intensity of the scene, and no doubt the wine, had clearly gotten both of you more into the scene than anticipated.

Adam dropped the script down on the sofa, and ran a hand through his hair, before wiping his mouth against the back of his wrist.

“Wow. That’s good! It’s really good.”

“Really? You liked it?”

“It’s powerful. Seriously. You should be really proud.”

“That felt pretty intense. Thank you. And thanks for reading Eddie for me. I’m…”

“Yeah. I felt it too.” He let out a loose, short laugh, pulling himself out of whatever intense place he’d been _._ He leant down to get his wine glass from the ground and took a long sip. You did the same.

It was late. Once again, you felt a hum of electricity now that the light was fading and the air was heavy. You felt the nerves seep in. Moose was snoring on the sofa. 

The wine made you bold as Adam sat back down, a leg crossed over one knee, looking right at you. You looked back at him, trying to formulate what you wanted to say. You wanted to know if he wanted you the way you did in that moment. But you were also terrified. Terrified to enter something or start something. Terrified to show any vulnerability. Unsure.

So you remained quiet. Pensive.

“You ok?” he asked, concerned. He suddenly leaned forward and reached his arm out, his hand touching your arm lightly. “Hey? Amy?”

You looked at his hand against your skin, his long fingers, the soft hairs against his skin.

“I… um. I really enjoyed today. I really enjoy your company. It feels, like something I’ve needed for a long time. I don’t really know what I’m trying to say, but I guess… I’m like you, I love my independence, I’m so happy alone, in my thoughts. But sharing this, my writing, just talking like this, I think I’ve missed it more than I thought.”

His fingers trailed slowly down to curl around your wrist.

“I’m glad. I feel the same way. I…this is good for me, I think. I was looking forward to today. Like… when I’m training, when I’m working on something I disappear in my head, but I was definitely looking forward to today. And now, I’m reminded why.”

You looked at how tiny your wrist looked in his hand. You turned it slowly to curl your fingers into his and take a step closer towards him, standing between his legs, looking down at his face. You wanted to kiss him, right there. But something held you back. Something inside you just wanted to enjoy this easy silence between you. He made no move, but his eyes bore into yours, full of unspoken intention, a slow smile hinting across his lips.

“I don’t know what this is, Adam?” you whispered.

He swallowed, and brought his other hand up to rest on your hip, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Neither do I.” he whispered back, “I’m… out of practice with this.” He chuckled softly.

“So am I. you chuckled. “I’m not the best at, whatever this is. But I know I want this. I like you. I’d like to do this again. I just…”

He said nothing. Just squeezed your hand, grazed a thumb across your skin. You reached out and brushed a lock of his hair back behind his ear. Then leaned in gently and kissed him, barely grazing the side of his lips, the softest brush of skin on skin.

You heard his breath hitch and the hand on your hip grip your skin harder. He turned his head and his lips met yours, gently, ever so gently, soft and salty.

You leaned in further and let his arms curl up around your thighs as he pressed kisses sweetly against your mouth. Innocent, tender, without hurry.

Somehow both of you, despite clearly wanting and feeling more, rested contentedly in this moment – tentative, without any pressure. Like you both understood each other and just wanted this moment, perfect as it was.

There was a yelp and Moose’s wagging tail clattered against a wine glass that tipped and broke on the ground. You both broke away from your trance, your cheeks flushed and Adam’s eyes wide.

“Well, thanks Moose!” He said, rolling his eyes, groaning deeply in mock frustration against your stomach, burying his head in the warmth of the fabric gathered at your waist, hugging you close. “This dog has the worst timing”.

You both laugh and he looks back up at you.

“I should go soon.” You said, smiling down at Adam, cupping his face in your hands. “I’ll help you clean up.”

“Stay.” He looked at you, pressing into the palm of your hand, kissing it reverently. “Please?”

“Adam, I’d love to. But I’m… this… I need time. Give me time.”

“Of course. We have all the time in the world.”

“You’re going to break into Louis Armstrong now?” You jibed at him, breaking free from his hug and jabbing him in the chest. You needed to break out of the intensity before you sank fully through the ground.

“Oh, no, the serenading you is… at least date three.” He jokes back, standing up – taking your hand again and wrapping his other arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. You fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, revelling in the heat of his body against you, the softness of his cotton tshirt, the firmness of his chest. “Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll deal with it in the morning. You’re my guest. You sure you won’t stay, even just for a coffee? No pressure.” You stooped to pick up your script, and your discarded shoes from beside the sofa, before walking back to the garden doors and into the apartment.

“I could stay, and talk all evening, you know I want to. But I’m also tired. And, sadly for some, Sunday is not a day of rest, I’ve got dissertation work to do. The real world.”

You wanted to never leave, to wrap yourself around him there in the kitchen, kiss him until your mouth hurt and you’re breathing stopped. But your fear was mounting, and your exhaustion from all the anticipation of the day. You knew now, this wasn’t the end. Just a beginning. And this time you wanted it to be right. To feel good in yourself about it. It was time to go.

 _Also_ , you laughed to yourself, _as mum always said,’ leave ‘em wanting more’!_

Adam walked you to the door, both of you pausing in a contented silence. He held you close, pulling your chin up to face him and placing a chaste and gentle kiss against your lips, breathing words against your mouth between kisses.

“I can’t wait to see you again. And thank you for today.”

You pulled at his tshirt, smiling against his lips.

“I can’t wait to see you again too. The pleasure was all mine.”

He unlocked the door, and after one final kiss, when he pulled you back to him, you left. Hearing the door gently click behind you.

You made it halfway down the street before you exhaled, your knees weak and your hands trembling.

You wanted to sing, but you also wanted to scream – all your anxieties bubbling under the surface at this wonderful thing you wanted to cherish at all costs. You’d speak with Rose tomorrow. You needed a friend to navigate this too.

You got home, had a shower and slumped on your sofa, still wired, and put on an old black and white movie to fall asleep to.

Just as your slumber was taking over, you heard a faint

*ping*

You smiled at the words on your screen

“GOODNIGHT. JUST ONE MORE KISS. ADAM, X”

You buried your head in the cushions on your sofa and squealed.

You could not WAIT to hold him again. And really kiss him this time.


	5. Fool for Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which surprises are had, performances take place and Moose for once takes a back seat.   
> ***  
> I don't own Adam Driver or anything to do with his life, this is pure fiction. He is single in this universe, it parallels and draws on some real events, but is pure fiction.   
> I use real life locations wherever possible.   
> ***   
> Photo inspo for this chapter: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738210371/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone leaving kudos and comments. These are what drive (r) me to write, and I am really enjoying that you are enjoying this fiction! It's complete distraction for me and a way to alleviate some of the strangeness of these days! Please do keep feeding back and feel free to make suggestions or whatever. Thanks again lovely people!!!

Chapter 5 - Fool for Love

***

“You WHAT???” Rose practically squeaked into her muffin as you walked to the rescue centre through Brooklyn Bridge park.

“We kissed. It was very… innocent. Brief. But…something, I don’t know what exactly… something, happened. Is happening.” You were faltering even trying to explain.

“YOU KISSED ADAM DRI…”

“Shhh! The whole of Brooklyn doesn’t need to know!!”

“AMY!!!! He is so HOT for you! This is GOOD! This, is…. OH MY GOD!” The muffin was in danger of disintegrating as she threw her hands in the air.

“It’s TERRIFYING!” You shot back. “I’m terrified! Yes, it’s good. He’s good. He’s… different. Really, really good different. But…” You let out a huge sigh.

You’d agreed to meet Rose on Sunday morning before she started her shift at the centre to update her on your date and try and voice both your complete joy, but also all your anxieties – you HAD to work on your dissertation today but honestly, you didn’t think you’d be able to focus on ANYTHING for longer than a minute.

As soon as you’d opened your eyes that morning and re-read his goodnight message, the heat of his lips still burnt into your memory, you’d started to panic.

_What am I getting into? This can’t go anywhere, surely? He is… he. In his world. The surreal world. Fame. Celebrity. I am I. I don’t exist in that world. I don’t belong. Is it even going to that place? Is this all just fun for him? Is this a fling? It feels more tentative. I don’t know. Does he know? What the fuck? Why can’t I just roll with this?_

There were way too many thoughts to spill into your mind so early on a Sunday.

Rose had met you at your apartment and dragged you to Russ and Daughters for bagels, muffins and litres of coffee and immediately pestered you with a million questions.

The more you talked, of course - you being you - the more you had backed yourself into a corner where you were convincing yourself to walk away before anything had begun. You’d started building the familiar protective wall around you.

Rose stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to face you. She said nothing but pulled you into a hug.

“Amy, you know I love you, right? We haven’t known each other long, but I consider you a really close friend. I’ve seen how you’ve turned a corner since we met. I know what you’ve dealt with. I know your pain. But you can’t run away forever, from everything.” She squeezed you tight. 

“I know Rose, I’m just… I haven’t let myself get close to anyone since… James ( _the poisonous ex-_ ) and I think, if I am true with my feelings, my need to pace this and he gets even a hint of how fucked up that relationship left me, he’s going to walk away. I mean, he lives in a world I don’t come close to inhabiting, it’s jetsett-y and whirlwind and very public and very, very distant to my day to day. Why would he stick around? He doesn’t need my shit.”

Rose pulled away and looked you right in the eye.

“Amy.” She was very stern, “I love you, but shut the fuck up. For a start: a) You are amazing. You’ve got through some tough shit and look at everything you’re doing for yourself. B) You think he doesn’t have his own shit to deal with? You think being a Hollywood actor is a breeze? It’s probably a living hell at least 50% of the time. It’s glamorous, but it’s still a job like any other – you’ve got enough friends in the arts to know how much shit comes with it, and given where he’s at it probably comes with EVEN more pressure. C) Correct me if I’m wrong, but… he pursued you.”

“I know, I know. And yes, it’s not that I don’t think I’m worth it, I’m just… maybe I’m not ready. Maybe, I’m misreading this whole thing anyway and it’s just a bit of fun for him, a distraction whilst he’s working on…” you trailed off. True to your word you had said nothing about Adam’s play, only that you were confident he was sticking around. Rose knew you better than to ask or probe as you’d made it clear his privacy was important to you.

“Amy” Rose said, hyper seriously now – with the furrowed brow and everything – a rarity for Rose who was always a joker. “You know what you’re allowed to do? You’re allowed to just let this play out naturally. In the time you want it to play out in. Just let it happen and be honest with yourself. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll move on, you’ve already demonstrated you’re strong. If he’s a douchebag, even for a second. I’ll personally beat the crap out of him and stick him with a lightsabre right where the sun don’t shine.”

At that you burst into laughing, hugging her tighter.

“Thanks Rose. You’re right. And I want to see where this goes. I really do. And I’m pretty sure you can hang on to that lightsabre for now! Haha!”

“Good. Now wipe the snot off your face you look ridiculous.”

You giggled and rubbed your nose and the mascara stains off your cheeks and sorted your face out.

“Did you invite him to your performance on Tuesday?”, Rose asked.

You suddenly stood stock still, you realised you hadn’t mentioned it at all. In fact, you realised that really you hadn’t wanted to. You weren’t ready. It was enough of a protective barrier down that he’d read your writing, you weren’t sure you were ready to open more doors yet. Besides, would he be likely to stroll in to a small rep theatre performance? You didn’t think so. He’d hardly be a “discreet” presence, especially since the theatre was so tiny. He’d be noticed immediately. He also probably wouldn’t fit his long legs in any of the seats, you thought to yourself with a smile.

“I didn’t.” you said, “I don’t think he’d come. And honestly, I’m pretty nervous as it is. I don’t need that pressure!”

“But he loved your writing. I bet he’d come.” Insisted Rose.

“Unlikely, come on. I’ll see him after it’s done, just let me get past this hurdle first then I’ll check in with him. Can you imagine the rest of the troupe if they even knew he would be coming? No, no, no…”

Rose rolled her eyes at you, but acquiesced.

“Fine. I get it. You’re right.”

You’d arrived at the rescue centre where you left her to go and work on your dissertation at the library. She gave you a final hug – you were working the following day so would see her then.

***

You’d not responded to Adam since his goodnight text and you felt the need to say something. You didn’t want to give the impression of not being interested. You couldn’t have been more interested if you tried, but the nerves were still gnawing at you. Eventually, after two hours sat at the library writing, rewriting, generally hating everything you were writing and silently cursing your dissertation, you picked up your phone. You had exhausted thinking what to say so just opted for the old adage _just be yourself_.

“Hi! I just wanted to say thank you again for yesterday. It was one of the most enjoyable Saturdays in a long time. I would really like to see you again. Soon, if that’s possible? Give Moose many hugs. A x”

You didn’t expect a swift response, assuming the phone was in a drawer somewhere, studiously ignored and Adam probably rehearsing, or reading, or whatever he did… you didn’t know him enough to even imagine.

You were halfway in to the fourth rewrite of a tricky paragraph when

*buzz*

“TUESDAY? I’M BACK UPSTATE LATER TODAY FOR A COUPLE OF DAYS BUT BACK TUESDAY MORNING. IT’S GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU. CALL YOU TOMORROW? ADAM X”

 _Tuesday??! Of all the goddamn days!_ Of course, it would be the one where you really couldn’t. That was performance night. You were not about to let him know.

“Any chance later in the week? I’d love to do Tuesday but I have a commitment already. Yes, call me later. I’d like that. A x”

“I’LL FIND TIME. I WANT TO SEE YOU. TALK TOMORROW, HAVE A GOOD DAY. KISSES, ADAM, X”

His semi-functional, awkward text messages made you laugh, they came out so clunky, and yet you found them wholly endearing. _“I’ll find time”_ you repeated to yourself. You wanted so badly to believe he was more interested than just a bit of fun. Your heart said he was, but your head was still full of past mistakes, misplaced trust. You dismissed it, reminded of Rose’s words. _You can’t run away forever._

***

Monday afternoon you and Rose were out in the yard with a few of the dogs. There were just a couple of visitors looking to adopt and while Rose took one couple to visit the smaller dogs in kennel two, you were introducing to a Cross/Collie called Henry to two friends in the training pen.

Rose had been kind enough to go through your lines with you ahead of your performance the following night, both of you coming in early to use the staff room.

“You’re SO prepared, don’t even sweat it. It’s going to be great. It’s so emotional, I’m really feeling it. I can’t wait!” Rose had gushed.

Back in the pen, you were distracted by Henry who was currently showing off his potential new masters his ability to chase his own tail – a classic dog move, when Rose hollered over, her visitors on their way out.

“Amy, I left my cell phone at home, can I use yours to make a quick personal call? I forgot I was supposed to call my nana for her birthday!”

Rose was always at the mercy of her extensive family, and she knew if Rose missed this she’d be hearing it from her parents no end.

“Sure, go for it. Pin is my birthday. Super original.”

She disappeared into the office.

The rest of the day passed slowly, uneventfully.

Your mind was not focused at all, instead wondering what Adam was up to. Imagining him driving up to the Valley, window down probably, some music on. Moose in the back, with his head out the window, tongue lolling out in the wind. Maybe Adam would be singing along to something. You knew he liked The Shins, having spotted the album (he had an extensive CD collection on his bookcase).

You had to refocus. YOU had a performance to prep for, whatever Adam may or may not have been doing in that particular moment… You grabbed your bag to go, you were off to visit the theatre for set up with the rest of the cast ahead of tomorrow.

***

At 10pm that evening, after your set up had finished, your phone rang.

_Adam._

Your heart lurched.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Amy. It’s Adam.”

“I know”, you smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I hope it’s not too late, sorry. I got in a couple of hours ago and had to take Moose out after the drive. He was really restless.”

“Not at all, it’s fine, I’m just reading. It’s nice to hear from you.” You heard yapping in the background, “Is that Moose? Can I say hi to him?

“Oh, sure! Let me get the phone to him” you heard rustling and Adam talking to the dog “Moose, hey, come on – say hi to Amy! Hey don’t chew the phone, wait, shit” * _crunch_ *, * _crackle_ * you heard a clatter, then a rustle and eventually “Shoot! Ok. Hello? I dropped the phone. I think he just wanted to eat it. That’s my dog. He just wants to fucking eat everything.”

You giggled down the phone.

“I have whole-hearted appreciation for Moose’s unending appetite.” You joked

“Me too. I totally identify. Anyway, how are you? I… I was thinking about you.” His voice went soft, in his low sing song. Something in the very pit of your stomach stirred.

“Me too.” You said, softly. “I’m well, I’ve been pretty busy. I’ll tell you about it when I see you, but I have some good news.”

“Ok, that sounds intriguing. Is this about your play?”

“Maybe”. You hinted. You wanted to tell him so badly about your performance, yet were too nervous. You would tell him after it was over, when there was absolutely no chance he’d show up. Not that he would, but anyway…

“Good. Good. I want to hear about it. Speaking of… when can I see you? Soon?” So breathy, he was so eager it tugged at your heart.

“Yes. Yes, please. I… I’m working Wednesday and Thursday but free in the evenings after 5.30. I can, swing by yours? Did you have anything in mind?”

“Well, actually… I, um, wanted to take you on a proper date. Like, let’s go and do something. Have you been to the Metrograph?

“I haven’t, but I know of it. A date? Like, out in public?” You knew you sounded hesitant. This should be something normal, but you still wondered if it was too soon. “Sorry, that sounded ridiculous.”

“No, I get it. It’s ok, if you don’t want to, or, you know. You want to keep it low key. I totally understand. I mean, I have my ways – he laughed – I’m used to having to run my outings like a military operation. But I understand if it’s not…”

“No, really. I really want to go on a proper date. Please don’t get me wrong. I just, it’s more for you. I don’t know how all this works. The hassle. But… I trust you.”

“I can’t guarantee we don’t get spotted. I mean, I’m so tall and I have this strange face… but I will do everything to keep this as chill as it can be. I promise you. Please don’t think it’s ‘hassle’.”

“Ok. If you’re sure. Let’s do it. I’m game. Also, shut up with the strange face.”

You heard him laugh briefly.

“Ok. Great. They’re showing old Hal Hartley movies at Metrograph, I figured we could catch one, then I’ll take you for dinner? Do you like Italian?”

“I eat anything. I LOVE Italian. What time?”

“I can pick you up at 7 We can take a car?”

“From mine?

“Is that ok?”

“Sure. Sure… I mean…” You hesitated for a moment, then stood in your resolve, refused to be embarrassed. SO you didn’t live in a big glamorous celebrity brownstone. Of course you didn’t. He didn’t care, why should you? He grew up in a bungalow in Indiana, he still rode a beat up old bike from 10 years ago, it was unimportant to him. You had nothing to be embarrassed about. “Yes. I’ll text you the address.”

“Cool. Moose is chewing my shoe. I think he wants attention. He is not enjoying all the driving, I feel bad. I guess I should go and be a good dad. Wednesday, 7pm?”

You wanted to ooze into the sofa at the words “good dad” and dismissed all the heated thoughts flooding your brain in that moment.

“Wednesday. Can’t wait.”

“Me too. I really can’t wait. Goodnight.”

You hung up. _EEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!_

***

Tuesday night – 13th Street Rep Theatre. 9.30 pm.

Considering the small size of the theatre, the applause sounded deafening from your spot at the edge of the stage. The lights were burning your eyes, your cheeks flushed and your chest swelling with pride. Your tight, itchy costume shirt clung to you, you were sweaty but elated.

You clutched the hand of Jonathan, your scene partner playing Eddie and smiled down the chorus line at your fellow actors. You were all beaming, rushing with adrenaline.

It had been a success. Squinting you could just about discern Rose in the front row who was clapping wildly, but also seemed to be gesturing behind her, waving her arms and trying to mouth something to you, but you were too distracted to really pay attention as you took a second curtain call bow.

As the lights finally came down, you disappeared off stage to change. The small, cramped changing room was a chaotic mess of bags, shoes, make-up and discarded clothes and clothing rails as the four of your cast all rushed in, a wild buzz of excited conversation and hugs and congratulations.

You’d agreed to all meet at a next door bar for a little celebratory drink once everyone had said hi to their friends in the audience and gathered their belongings. You didn’t need to clear out the set and props until the following day. Just as you were wiping off your thick eye make-up with a cotton pad, the walkie-talkie in the changing room crackled. It was the tech team up in the control room – the guys who ran the lights and sound – who were linked to the actors’ room via radio comms.

“This is tech, is Amy there? Amy?”

You picked up the radio as you pulled on your jeans.

“Amy here! Great work guys, we’re almost done in here. What can I do you for?”

“Amy, there’s, um, someone up here wants to say hi to you.”

“What? Sure, I mean I’m coming out in a minute, just getting changed. I’ll be out in like 5.”

“Yeah, can you… they want to meet up here?”

“In the control room? Why?”

“Just… You’ll see.”

“Oh-kay. Gimme a moment” – _so cryptic, you thought._ You ran a brush through your hair, did a final check in the mirror that all the eyeliner gunk was off and grabbed your bag. You couldn’t wait to give Rose a huge hug.

The moment you walked out of the changing room you almost banged into her, she was with her sister and housemate whom you’d met a few times.

“ROSE! How was it? Oh my god, what a rush! Was it good??”

“It was so fucking awesome! Amy!!! You’re really good. Your cast were so good! I can’t believe you wrote that, I’m so proud of you!!!”

You gave her a huge hug but she was literally jumping on the spot. And wouldn’t stop.

“Rose, what is it? You’re crazy.”

“Amy… you, there’s… um, you need to go up to the…”

“Control room? Yeah, yeah, they were calling me on the radio. What’s…”

“Amy, he’s here. OHMYGOD, I can’t even…he’s… it’s….” She was rambling and incoherent.

“Who?”

“Adam, you big idiot. Adam! He came to watch!!!”

“He… WHAT? Why, how…? I don’t even… I didn’t tell him.” You had flushed a beetroot shade and your body suddenly shuddered with a rush of nerves. _What was he doing here? How?_ Your heart leapt into your mouth.

You took Rose by the hand and dragged her down the corridor into the theatre stalls. You looked up as soon as you got there, to the tiny glass window of the control room up above, you could barely see into it, but could just make out the unmistakeable shape of one Adam Driver, the ever-moving, expressive hands, the impossibly broad shoulders, a dark brown leather jacket. His back was turned but he was clearly talking animatedly to Josh and Marie who were the tech crew for the show, you could sink into the floor.

He had come to watch your show.

You looked at Rose.

“How? I don’t even understand? Why do I feel you had something to do with this…?” You looked at her with a raised eyebrow in suspicion.

“I…maybe…? Please don’t kill me! I… got his cell number from your phone…when I borrowed it. I called him from work – staged it like a follow up call from the adoption…and… maybe… just _happened_ to mention the performance.”

“Rose!!!! I could kill you. But…” – your look went from exasperated to a massive grin.

“Amy, he came. He was so keen to come. Seriously, I know you didn’t want this, but… he didn’t even hesitate when I told him the details.”

“It’s ok. You know what? It’s… I’m… I’m so glad. I, just can’t believe it. I have to go. Rose… I think I love you even more.”

“GO! Oh my god. Go! No one knows he’s here apart from me and the tech team, he just slipped in after the doors closed and asked to sit in the tech room to watch.”

You kissed Rose briefly on the cheek and squeezed her hand before gathering your things and heading up to the back stairs.

You knocked timidly on the door to the small control room, then slipped in. Josh and Marie immediately turned to you, they were both beaming, and between them resting against the edge of the sound control counter was Adam. You looked straight at him and swallowed, your cheeks still flush.

“Hi.” You breathed, as you gingerly walked into the room.

Adam stood up straight, taking up the entire room.

“Amy!” Josh gave you a huge hug as you came in, closely joined by Marie. “That was awesome, well done! Um… you have a visitor.”

You hugged them both back, keeping your eyes on Adam who just looked at you, face serious, eyes intense, almost drinking you in. You mouthed “Hello” at him and he nodded gently, the corners of his mouth crinkling into a smile.

You broke away from the hug and stood awkwardly. The air seemed to have gone out the room. Josh and Marie clearly sensed it, and immediately made moves to give you some space.

“It was really nice to meet you, really.” Josh said hurriedly and shook Adam’s hand as he grabbed his jacket off the sound desk chair.

“Oh sure, and hey – if I remember the name of that guy, I’ll pass it on. He can definitely help you.” Adam said, shaking Josh’s hand firmly. They’d clearly been exchanging contacts.

Marie went to shake his hand and Adam leaned in and gave her a small hug.

“It was a really great performance, thanks for letting me squat up here.” Adam said, genuine warmth from him as the two techs made their way to exit.

Marie looked like she might catch fire and immediately gazed over at you mouthing “you go girl!” at you with a cheeky smile as she and Josh left the room.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving just the two of you in the small, dimly lit, stuffy room.

You stood awkwardly, looking at Adam and biting your bottom lip. He had on a soft black sweater under his jacket which his eyes seemed to match, shining jet black in the dimly lit space, boring into you with a hunger that rooted you to the spot.

“You came.” You whispered. Not able to move.

“I hope you don’t mind? Rose explained about how you wanted to keep it quiet. I just…”

“I don’t mind. I… I was nervous. But now that you’re here. I’m… just happy. This is an unexpected surprise. But a really good one.” You smiled, gently, but still couldn’t move from your space, the two meters between you feeling simultaneously like a gaping chasm yet also stiflingly close, like you could feel the heat from him.

He closed the gap between you as you dropped your bag to the floor.

Without a word, he leaned down, scooped an arm around you and pulled you into a kiss, catching you off guard. His lips were hot and so soft and his strength lifted you onto the tips of your toes as you pushed in to the kiss, bringing a hand up around his neck, fingers grazing into his hair. You smelled the warm leather, a faint heat of sandalwood and skin, the weight of his body against yours, so tall, his arm enveloping you against his chest. You pulled away, briefly, foreheads together as he exhaled hard against you.

“You were incredible.” He breathed.

“Really? Thank you. I… I’m really happy with how it went.”

“You should be. It was really, really good. You are incredible.” he repeated.

You looked at him, your eyelashes so close you could feel his blinking against yours, noses grazing, lips teasing. You clutched at his hair, your other hand coming up to spread a palm across his chest and you nudged up into a kiss, biting into his bottom lip.

The kiss was bruising this time. Hot, searing. He pulled you even closer, lifting you off the ground and walking you over to the door, pressing your back against it as his mouth explored yours. His tongue teased your lips apart, your mouth pressed hard against his, teasing him back. You brought your legs up and wrapped them around his waist as he leaned hard into you, flush against the door, his large hands holding you firmly round the waist, fingers spread across the skin of your lower back to hold you in place.

You ran your tongue against his lips, suckling on the bottom one, making him kiss you back harder, mouth open, full, hot and wet. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt his breathing come ragged.

He broke away, suddenly, chuckling. Then looking at you softly, a sheen where your lips still glistened. He kissed you again, softly. Then spoke,

“Well, that escalated…”

You released a short laugh, “Just a bit.” _Phew_ , your body felt electrified as you inhaled and exhaled deeply, still flush against him. He nuzzled into your neck as you released your legs and planted your feet back on the floor.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week.” He spoke, eyes intense.

“Me too.” Your voice small.

A comfortable silence, punctuated by soft kisses ensued.

“You know”, you said “it’s highly likely the entire crew and half the people downstairs know you are here now. I love Josh, but he’s pretty excitable. The cat might be out the bag.”

“Well… I don’t care. If you don’t?”

“I don’t. They’ll be so flattered you were watching. Jonathan, who played Eddie, was at Julliard with me, same with Marie. They won’t gossip, I mean, it’s an actors crowd down there. But they’ll definitely want a selfie.”

Adam screwed up his face and rubbed the back of his head, letting out a fake-irritation groan, then grinning at you broadly, all teeth and dimples and lifted you off the ground again, holding you in a grip as easy as if you were made of air.

“Do I get to make out with you more if I do a selfie?”

“You can make out with me more, full stop.” You laughed.

“I have to go after this, I only have the dog-sitter for a bit – it’s my neighbour - I hadn’t really planned on coming out. But I’ll see you tomorrow, properly.”

“Yes you will.”

“Good.” A kiss. Slow, gentle, sweet, hot.

_Breath, Amy._

“Ok, let’s go. Also, it’s good that I get to meet Rose in person, she’s the little bird who told me about this happening.

“Yes, classic Rose. I should have known she was up to something. She’s my confidante.”

Adam picked your bag up from the floor and went to open the door for you. Just before you walked out you turned and looked up at him, serious for a moment.

“Adam, I…”

He paused, placing a hand at your waist, waiting for you to continue as your formulated your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you about tonight because…, you let out a slow breath, “I have a lot of barriers up. It’s not that I’m not proud of my work, or want to share. I’m just… this, you gestured between the pair of you, this is very new and different for me. And I don’t know where it’s going or what it is. I have… some baggage, I just. Wanted to let the barriers down slowly.”

He looked guilty for a moment, staring at the floor.

“Rose hinted that you felt that way. I mean, she didn’t really tell me much. Just told me where the performance was. I didn’t want to offend by coming, I really hope I didn’t…”

You reached up and cupped Adam’s face,

“You haven’t offended in the slightest. Please, I’m beyond happy you came. I guess I was hesitant to explain this to you before, I’m just... I wish I had invited you and hadn’t been so nervous to share this bit of me.”

He leaned down and kissed you so softly you melted into him.

“It’s ok to be nervous, I just want you to know I don’t intend to make you nervous. I wanted to see your play because when we read it, it was so good, and I knew you’d be brilliant. As for the rest, well, who doesn’t have baggage? I have all sorts of weird going on. There’s stuff, you know, I am maybe difficult sometimes. You’re not alone. We can go as slow as you need.”

“Not if you keep kissing me like that.” You smiled.

“Fair. But I’m not apologising for that.” He grinned, still kissing you.

“Please don’t. Ever.”

“I have a complicated life. Not… complicated, just – it’s busy, and comes with a lot of shit and public exposure and… I understand wanting to take things slow. Me too. I don’t want to mess with you or drag you into something you’re not comfortable with. ”

You looked at each other, a mutual understanding not needing to be spoken. You took his hand and squeezed it.

“We need to go, they’re probably waiting on us to close the damn theatre”.

He laughed and you both left the room. You felt a surge of relief, and a warmth inside you that you could barely describe. What had happened in two short weeks!?

Adam was gracious with all the cast, posing for pictures, shaking everyone’s hand, answering questions and showing interest in everyone. You could feel his love for the theatre, the energy of being with other actors. In his leather jacket and scuffed jeans and sneakers he fit right in.

Not wanting to hint at anything too close between you, you kept your distance, but noticed how he glanced at your repeatedly, sending you a secret smile as he joked and talked with your friends.

Rose came up behind you and gave you a shoulder hug.

“What a genuine gentleman. He looks like he’s totally in his element.

“He is. On both those counts.

“Amy, this is… I mean, I think he’s serious.”

“Me too. And I still find it terrifying, but I think… it’s going to be good. He knows I feel that way, so that’s a step.”

“I think he’ll be really, really good for you. Also, can we just appreciate the total hotness. I mean, fuck me he is so hot.”

You both looked at him, admiring for a moment his focused gaze, looking at people when they were talking like they were the only people in the room, with those chocolate eyes. His large hands, always moving, like an extension of his speaking, his smile, crooked, soft, warm, bashful. You could tell he got awkward when he was thrown too many compliments. His body, well… there were no words. Your cheeks warmed just at the thought of him pressed against you, towering over you in a protective embrace, those taut, muscular arms, the broad chest, the long legs.

“Yeah, he’s really fucking hot. And I’ve got a proper date with all that hotness tomorrow night.”

“I am living through you.”

“Rose. I am barely conscious that I am living through this myself!”

You both burst out laughing.

After several minutes, Adam signalled to you with a brief nod that he was on his way. You approached him, wanting to pull him into a desperate kiss, but suitably restrained.

“You’re off?”

“Yes, or Moose might have destroyed my neighbour’s house by now.”

“Don’t piss the neighbours off, you joked, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then in a lower tone as he bent to kiss your cheek, you whispered, “thank you so much for coming. I can’t kiss you but believe me I want to so badly.”

He whispered to you, “Me too. We’ll make up for it tomorrow. You were amazing.” Then aloud “Ok, bye! Thanks so much for letting me watch, guys! Take care.” And he walked out to the foyer into the night.

The buzz after he had walked out the door just got louder and louder and carried you all into the bar. Your cast mates, already totally on a high from the crowd-pleasing performance, were even more excited now, causing a deafening ruckus at The Art, a regular theatre student dive bar. You briefly let on that you and Rose had met him when he had adopted Moose and that it was all a crazy coincidence him showing up, there was nothing to it, he went to the theatre all the time etc. etc. No one said a word, but you knew no one was buying it. You were just grateful for the discretion of your friends. 

Eventually you got home, exhausted, buzzing, distracted and painfully aware of a deep emotion inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You noticed an Instagram post from Jonathan, it was a group shot of the cast and crew, a few straggler audience members and Adam, in the centre, tall and smiling, arms around Marie and Rose’s shoulders, you on the left end. He was smiling a genuine smile, those soft brown eyes making you feel all kinds of things.

The caption from @stageshow_jonny simply read “First run of Fool for Love and we had a surprise special guest in the audience! Can’t believe #AdamDriver came to support!”

You breathed a silent thanks that it just looked like any regular New York celebrity sighting and not make any news at all.

As you fell asleep that night, you felt, for once, you were stepping into something wonderful.


	6. Dates and Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy and Adam go on a "proper" date and a first glimpse is had into the reality of his world.  
> Also... tiramisu makes a reappearance.  
> ***  
> There be LOTS of kissing.  
> ***  
> Moose is taking a break from this episode, but he'll be back, fear not all Moose fans.  
> ***  
> Nope, still don't own or have anything to do with Adam Driver other than endless admiration for his fine form and stupendous acting. This is pure and utter fiction, set in a very similar AU to the real world.  
> ***  
> All locations mentioned in this are real and exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took an epic long time to write and it is a LONG chapter, but we progress a few things,... and let's say it starts getting hot under the collar ;)
> 
> THANKS THANKS THANKS for the wonderful feedback I got so far, I am COMPLETELY grateful and all comments make me just want to write and write and write more and more. Thanks for sticking with this! 
> 
> Any feedback or whatever please let me know, good or bad :) Hope you are all staying safe out there Driver fans!

You woke early the following morning with a spring in your step, but a deep churn of anticipation in your stomach. Your head was still fizzing from the night before, but also for the “date” ahead of you that evening so you put on your sneakers and went on a really long run to clear your mind. You had to do some studying that day and needed to do everything to stay focused, so left your phone at home during your run to ensure you weren’t stopping to check it.

After more than an hour jogging along the Brooklyn riverfront, you got back to your tiny studio, legs burning. You picked your phone up only to notice both a missed call and a message from Adam.

“HI! TRIED TO CALL, I’M GOING TO INTRODUCE YOU TO HANNAH, MY PA, ABOUT TONIGHT, CALL ME? A X”

His PA. Personal Assistant. You didn’t wait to shower and change before calling back. You suddenly realised this was a first step into the different worlds you both inhabited, one that in the rush of last night - which had felt somehow so casual and normal - you had managed to suspend belief on for a few hours. You felt with an increase of pressure in the pit of your stomach that this evening was going to be anything _but_ “normal”. You hit redial immediately.

“Adam, it’s Amy.”

“Hi! How are you? Sorry I had to run last night.” His low voice brought a pool of warmth to your throat.

“It’s ok, I still can’t believe you came!” You smiled down the phone. “I saw your missed call. Um, Hannah? Your PA?”  
  


“Yeah, uh, I just want to make sure tonight is as easy and relaxed as possible, for you.” A pause “and for me, but primarily for you. The whole public thing, I mean. Hannah is my assistant, she… basically runs my life… which I need, because otherwise it would be a fucking disaster zone.” You heard him chuckle self-deprecatingly, “Anyway. Hannah can coordinate, uh, just making sure we minimise the, uh… opportunity for it becoming a thing. I’m… ok, this is a really long-winded explanation…” you could hear him getting frustrated at himself and interrupted,

“It’s ok. I know exactly what you mean. I… I didn’t really think about it before, but of course you have a PA and this is totally normal. It’s fine.”

“I just don’t want anything to be uncomfortable, really. So, if I get her to give you a call today? My day is pretty busy, but if you’re still ok for seven, I’ll pick you up.”

“Of course she can call me, I’d appreciate it. I feel… like I’m getting a briefing for a major event or something.” You laughed, but couldn’t conceal the nerves. He sensed it.

“Amy, if you would rather we just hang out like before, I totally understand. I…”

“No, stop, really. It’s fine. I want to go on this date. This is just all a little new for me, that’s all. It’s just an adjustment. Get Hannah to call me.”

“You’re sure?”

  
“100%.”

He was quiet for a moment. You wondered what he was weighing up in his mind. Was he already regretting the effort this was all going to cost?

_If I was famous, this would probably all be easier for him. For both of us. I’d be used to all this. I’d be living the same way - there must just be this unspoken way of living you just learn, that becomes your new normal. I’d have my own PA. I’d know how this life all works._

Like he’d read your thoughts, he spoke again.

“I really want to take you on a date, Amy. Just a normal, boring dinner and a movie date. Well, I mean, not boring, I hope. You know, I don’t get to do normal stuff a lot anymore. This is a privilege for me, so I will make sure, you know, that it is as normal as any date. But if you have any questions, or anything you are unsure about, please message me. Let me know, I will change plans. Hannah is amazing, she will talk you through everything, I trust her with literally everything, so you know, please feel free to ask her anything too.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. Really. I…this shouldn’t have to be such a big thing.

“Honestly, it’s not. You’ll see. It’s a little weird and different, but we’re just two people going on a date. In probably a more organised way than if I had to do it all myself, if I’m honest.” You heard him laugh softly, knowing he was trying to make you at ease, his familiar deflection.

“I’m looking forward to it. Really.”

“Me too. So much.” He paused, “I’ve gotta run. See you at seven. I’ll get Hannah to call you now, just give her your address.”

“Sure. See you”. You hung up.

_Time to see how the other half really live._

***

You showered, changed, got your books out and the radio on, ready to knuckle down to study when the phone rang again. A private number. You assumed this was the famous Hannah.

“Hello?

“Amy, hi, this is Hannah. Adam’s PA. I think he told you I would be calling? How’s it going?” – her voice was breezy, energetic, a thick New York accent, no nonsense, but super friendly.

“Hi, yes. Yes, he did. Um, hi – I’m uh, ok. Just a bit… this is a new thing for me.” _God, I can’t even speak like a normal human_ , you thought.

“Sure, sure! Honey, don’t worry. I can’t even imagine, this must be, like, super weird. But uh, listen. I’ll give you the low down and honestly, you don’t need to think about anything, I’m just here to make your life easier.”

You pulled a grimace, and joked to yourself. _Oh, yeah?_ You thought – W _anna make me not feel sick with nerves, write my dissertation, finish my PhD and get me out of my shitty rental apartment while you’re at it?_ You wished…

“Ok. So… what am I in for? And…um, can I ask, how long have you, uh, known Adam?”

“Oh, sure! I came on as his PA right around Star Wars: Force Awakens. Yeah, that kinda kicked everything off to another scale, I think before that he was working with a couple of people he’d worked with, like theatre contacts, but they were more like general diary stuff not a full time PA. His agent basically sorted out for him to have full PA support, which he really needed by that point. Um, do you want to know a bit about me, I guess?”

“Sure, yeah, thanks.”

“So, I’ve been a celebrity PA for 25 years now, I work for a private agency. I’m from Queens, you can probably hear that. I’ve worked mostly New York but I used to have a client in LA. I missed home. I basically look after people’s day to day lives to make sure they can focus on their work and careers etc. without having to think about all the admin and stuff. My job is to make people’s lives easy and manageable, which in this industry is, well, you can imagine…”

“Yeah…I mean I have very limited knowledge but I have theatre training and a few friends in the industry who are – I guess – more well known. I imagine it’s super hectic.”

“Yeah, actually Adam told me you had a show last night? An adaptation you wrote? That is so cool; I hear it was really rad.”

“He told you? Oh, uh yeah” that threw you, “Yeah it went really well. Thanks.” You smiled inside.

“Awesome! So anyway, I’m in charge of Adam’s diary, event management, I coordinate uh, his team, stylist, etc. for engagements, press calls, events, and all that stuff, which I also manage. Where he goes, I go. I’m on call 24/7. Um, I organise literally, _everything_. Accounts, finances, mail, dry cleaning, food shopping, laundry…”

“Food shopping? Are you kidding?...” Then you paused and thought about it. Of course he didn’t go to Wholefoods and Duane Reade, he’d be mobbed all the time. When would he even have time? This all made perfect sense, in its own bizarre way. You thought of yourself running out to get milk and soda at the corner shop in your trackies on a Sunday, looking like shit. Yep, you would not want a hundred blogs speculating on your bed hair, what milk brand you bought or whatever shit people needed to talk about that was ridiculous. 

“Everything, really. I mean, Adam’s super chill, he does what he can when he can but, usually he is so time poor that when he gets time he doesn’t want to spend it buying groceries. He’s a very private guy. More than a lot of our agency’s clients, so, my job is really to protect that. And today that also involves you.

“It does…” You let out a deep nervous breath, which Hannah immediately picked up on.

“Hey, chill, don’t worry. It’s really just playing the game to stay out the public eye, otherwise you’re gonna have really nice evening, no hassle, I swear.”

“Ok. I just feel like all this just comes so naturally to him, to uh, people like him. It’s just so insane to me, having a PA, having someone do my laundry. I just… I’m a theatre grad, I work part time and I’m teacher training, I mean, I’m like a million miles from this shit. Sorry, I’m just…” you were exhausted even thinking about it, wishing you could control your nerves, to not care.

“Hey… hey”, She toned down her big voice for a moment. “Don’t worry, honestly, it’s weird for anyone at the beginning. There’s no one I’ve worked with that was born into this industry, no one starts like this, but really everyone’s just a normal person you know. Adam _hated_ it at the start. He’s not a flashy guy, he’s intensely private and quiet and… you know, the military thing? He likes handling things himself, being hands on. At the start he was _very_ resistant to the whole idea of someone in his home cleaning, packing for him, telling him what to do – not just me, but the whole stylist thing, grooming, everything. I think he got really frustrated. But when Star Wars blew up I think he just realised, we were there to ALLOW him to live normally, not get in the way of that. We’re part of that career. When you have the kind of diary and lifestyle he does, you don’t have time to do all the mundane stuff.”

This both relieved you and made you even more anxious.

“Hannah, do you… does someone… ever get used to that sort of fame?”

… a long silence…

“Some do, some don’t. I think what you’re asking is, will you ever get used to it? And I can’t answer that. All I can say is, Adam made it very clear to me that tonight is important to him and he wants you to be protected from any hassle…”

“…Protected?” you interrupted her.

“Yeah, he…”

“I’m not made of glass…” You got angry for a moment.

“Honey, that is not what he meant. He, I mean, he sounded pretty keen on this evening. What he means is he wants to make sure you both get to enjoy time without intrusion.”

You huffed, then slowly acknowledged…

“I know. Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. I get it, I really do. Ok, so… tonight. What’s the deal?”  
  


“Ok. Well, a car will bring Adam to pick you up from yours; You’ll get a message when it’s there, just like Uber. You’re at Metrograph, so we’ll park round the back of the venue and you’ll go in from the service entrance, there’s security…

“This is so ‘Goodfellas’” you giggled.

“Yeah, a little” Hannah laughed with you, “honestly, you see so many less than salubrious New York kitchens in this job. Anyway, you’ve got a VIP booth in the upper circle. Once the show’s over, security will take you round the back way again, back to the car. You’re having dinner at Il Buco, after. Again, you’ll go in from the side entrance just because there’s a lot of sidewalk seating at the front. Buco’s is pretty small, but it’s dark, super romantic, the diners there are pretty used to famous faces – honestly New York dining in general, people don’t care so much, if you know where to go.”

“So far, it seems ok. I mean, I never get to eat in places like Il Buco, but…”

“It’s SO good, Honestly, have the branzino. It is to _die_ for. So, um, basically end of the night, the car will drop you off wherever…”

She left that hanging you noticed… you couldn’t even think ahead that far.

“So… that’s it?”

“Pretty much. Just… you might want to wear a hat, or have a jacket with a hood. And shades, or a scarf. Just, something you can cover your face with, if you need to. ”

“Oh…” you thought about it. Made sense. “Yeah, ok. Um, that’s clear.”

“Also, Adam might walk ahead of you, or behind you if you’re out and about. Please don’t think that is weird, it’s just to avoid unnecessary headlines.”

This was starting to creep your nerves up. _Unnecessary headlines? You didn’t want to be spotted but at the same time you felt awkward at the idea of having to be “invisible”._

“Ok… Sure…”

“Amy?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s going to be a really nice evening. Don’t think too much about it. And if you need anything. ANYTHING. Just holler, ok?”

“Ok.”

“I hope we meet in person at some point.”

“Oh, yeah me too.” You hadn’t thought about that, but… if this was going anywhere you realised that if Hannah was half of Adam’s life then you would most likely be meeting, sooner rather than later.

“Oh, and by the way.” She added quickly “Moose? How awesome is that dog?”

“Oh, of course you’ve met Moose!”

“Call me the dog walker, the dog sitter, the dog groomer, you want to know who drove that stupid hot dog bed around New York City in the back of her car…?”

You laughed out loud at that.

“Oh, wow! Lucky you!! Is there any job you don’t do?”

“Honestly? Nope… But I like it that way. I must be crazy, but I love this business. Anyway, I gotta scoot, but – call me for anything. I mean it. And have fun tonight.”

“Thanks. Truly. Thanks. I’ll… see you around.”

***

You hung up. You knew you needed to call Rose, studying be damned. You didn’t want to be a gossip, but you did need to get off your chest the weight you suddenly felt. Also, you didn’t know what the hell to wear, and you really wanted to spoil yourself. You hadn’t been on a real date for almost three years. You could trust her to keep this between you. And advise!

She came round that afternoon after her shift to, essentially, rip your wardrobe apart to find something hot for you to wear. You were more of a tomboy / casual wear person, but you wanted something different and Rose was adamant you were going to go out dressed to the nines.

After much yelling at your clothes and cursing at your shoes Rose eventually found some combination of all the crap in your wardrobe you both agreed was apt for the moment.

You had an old 1950s vintage emerald green, silk shirt dress with a sort of kimono belt on the side, paired with a pair of red pumps. Rose was flapping with excitement, which you would have been too if you were not hyperventilating from panic about the whole thing.

“See, now I wish we were just eating pizza in his garden. I don’t do dressing up like this! I love it, but it feels so weird!”

“Shut up, you look awesome. You’ll knock him dead.”

You put on red lipstick to match your heels and this time left your hair down, partly so it could hide your face if need be.

“Got your shades?

“Yup

“Hat?

“No, that would look so stupid with this dress. I have a scarf… I can go all… I don’t know, Gone with the Wind and flounce it round me if I have to.”

The closer it got to 7pm the more agitated you’d become.

Adam had texted a quick “ON MY WAY! X” and you were standing in front of your mirror, trying desperately to stop the heat on your cheeks and forehead make your make-up run and your hair damp. It was a clammy evening and your nerves weren’t helping.

So now you stood, in your living room. Nervous. Buzzing. Trying not to chew your nails.

Your phone pinged.

“Pick up: BMW Touring SBC-1457 has arrived.”

You went to look out the window and saw a sleek, tinted windowed sedan at the bottom of your building.

_Here goes!_

You stepped into the street and made your way towards the car. As you did the driver’s door opened and a smartly dressed older guy in a shirt and pants got out to open the back door for you. This was like going to prom.

You slid into the back where Adam was sat, waiting.

You gasped quietly.

He looked like the most delicious drink of water you’d ever seen.

“Hi!” You let out in a sharp breath, settling in your seat.

You could barely hold his gaze, feeling the heat hit your cheeks at the sight of him. His wavy hair was brushed back off his face, clean shaven he was wearing a slim-fit denim shirt under a sort of khaki tailored flak jacket, dark navy pants and black leather boots. Even the chunky chronograph watch on his wrist was sexy.

His eyes went wide as he took you in, “Hey. You look… amazing.”

He immediately leaned over and cupped your face, pulling you into a gentle kiss. You could almost hear the static in the air between you as you pushed gently into him, his hand sliding down your arm, pulling you closer.

“Thank you. You scrub up pretty well too.” You said, coyly, coming up for air as the driver sped off. He just looked at you, eyes piercing, searching yours in the dim light of the sedan.

“Did Hannah weird you out? Are you ok?” he was all concern.

“I’m ok. I’m… more than ok. I was a bit nervous, but now I’m just… I’m happy to see you.” You smiled softly, taking in his face, so soft in the evening light.

He smiled and as the car made its way through the city, he took your hand in his, tucked in his lap, lacing his long fingers with yours and giving you a reassuring squeeze. You didn’t speak during the journey, there felt no need, you just enjoyed the silence, the closeness, the anticipation in the air. You could be making out like teenagers but you sensed a need to let the evening unfold slowly, both of you without speaking translating a desire to take this date like a sort of acknowledgement this was something different, special. Not to say there wasn’t a burn of heightened sexual tension in the air. It was aflame.

You kept glancing at each other, exchanging silent words with your eyes. As the city lights flickered across his cheekbones, dancing over the beauty marks spattered across his skin his eyes were dark and hungry. “You’re so beautiful.” he whispered, bringing your small hand to his lips and kissing your palm, making you shiver. Restraint was going to be a real challenge, you realised.

Thankfully the car pulled up at the back of the Metrograph, an old theatre converted into a restaurant, bar, music and film venue specialising in old art house and indie movies and film festivals. You parked in a non-descript side alley beside two massive industrial bins and an air shaft – the back of the building. The driver got out to open the door and, without even thinking - so ingrained was the habit, Adam pulled a baseball cap out from the seat pocket in front, pulling it down over his eyes before lifting the hood of his jacket over his head. A security guard was waiting at the fire exit door leading to the kitchens of the Metrograph restaurant, whispering into an ear piece.

Adam took your hand as soon as you were out of the car and pulled you quickly into the building. It felt clandestine as you both walked briskly through a busy kitchen, chefs and waiters clattering in the steamed up room, noise and steam. No one batted an eyelid, so this must just happen all the time. You wound your way through a twisting staff corridor, up through to a security stairwell leading up to yet another fire door which opened suddenly into the lobby of the cinema dress circle.

When the security man opened the door into the lobby then followed the pair of you, Adam marched through as fast as he could, head down, his hand clutching yours tight, walking straight to the entrance to a private box.

The lobby was full of people. You’d not thought of this bit. People were congregated outside the screening room, chatting over drinks, queuing at the cinema bar, ordering popcorn, laughing. You felt a few eyes on you, some whispers, not many, but enough to realise just how recognisable he was.

You could hear Adam talking to the attendant at the entrance to the box seats, but kept your head low as you noticed several people watching the pair of you with curiosity.

“Could we please get a bottle of Champagne and two popcorns, one sweet, one salty. And some water? Thank you so much.”

“Of course, Mr Driver. Please, have a seat.”

The attendant ushered you into the box, you heard the security guard mumble something into his earpiece then both left and closed the doors behind you. Your head was a whirl. 

“Amy?”

You turned round, lifting your head. You were aware suddenly you looked like a rabbit in headlights, but now it was just the two of you, in a private box, it was dark, quiet, safe.

Adam quickly walked over to you, closing the gap and gently pulling you to him, leaning down to bring his face close to yours, his lips so close. His eyes flitted between yours, looking for fear, anxious for you.

“Are you ok? Sorry if that was super weird.” He swallowed and bit his lip, looking annoyed at even having to ask, like he’d put you in an awkward situation.

You giggled, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes and stroking his face. Christ, he was beautiful. You brushed your thumb over his lips, eliciting a small hitch of breath from them as they parted. His eyes were locked on yours, his body heat radiating through the layers of his shirt.

“I’m not a china doll, Adam.” You whispered at him, keeping your eyes on his as you continued to trace the contours of his soft mouth with your thumb. “Yeah, it was a little bizarre, but I’m fine. I’m ok. I’m here, I’m with you. Stop worrying.”

You smiled, and he let out a small sigh of relief, before capturing your thumb between his teeth, closing his lips around it and gently sucking. You were taken by surprise. A shot of white heat raced through you, a sharp ache between your legs as he continued to slowly suckle, his tongue circling the soft pad of skin, caressing it, then releasing it as you exhaled shakily. 

You pulled his face towards you and crashed your lips against his, fingers curling tight in his hair, teeth clashing, tongues dancing, his breath and yours ragged. He held you so close you felt his racing pulse, the rising and falling planes of his chest, the press of his thighs, the heat and strength of his arms and the curve of his neck, skin soft and hot as his tongue played a heavenly teasing game with yours. He held the back of your head in his wide palm, his thumb caressing your cheek, his kisses feverish, eager. You melted into him entirely.

There was a knock at the door. You pulled away quickly, both laughing nervously like you’d been caught stealing money from a cookie jar. The attendant was back with a tray and as she busied herself discreetly opening the Champagne, you both took your seats, or rather – the couch – the box seating was a reclaimed 1940s banana sofa in red velvet, all the vintage vibes. Adam removed his jacket, sat his huge body into the sofa – he was so big he sort of edged into the corner of it, his legs spread wide, simultaneously awkward and yet completely self-assured. The way he curled his feet together under him when sitting was characteristic trait you’d noticed at his apartment. No matter which chair he was sitting in it always looked too small for him, something somehow both intensely sexual as it conveyed his sheer size, and yet also completely endearing – a man child, primordially masculine yet completely vulnerable. You desired him then with every fibre in your body.

You took your seat beside him as the lights of the cinema dimmed even further, the seats in the stalls below filling with people and hushed conversation as the attendant brought over two glasses of bubbles to you before exiting discreetly. Curled on the sofa beside Adam, in the crook of his arm, you slid off your shoes to pull your legs in under you as he wrapped his arm tighter around you and drew you close. It felt so right, just in that moment, like a puzzle piece slotting with such satisfaction into place, a picture finally completed. You clinked glasses in the dark as Adam turned his head slowly to draw you in for a languid, sensual and tender kiss – the opening credits music swelling.

Just as the film started, he whispered softly in your ear,

“I’ve never wanted to impress anyone more. I just want to kiss you, endlessly.”

Your legs trembled, you gulped your Champagne quickly, both smiling in the dark as you brought your lips up to his ear and gently responded.

“I look forward to being endlessly impressed, _and_ endlessly kissed. Thank you for this.” He chuckled, planting a quick kiss on your nose, then your mouth, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

The film was Simple Men, a classic Hal Hartley. You’d both seen it before but never on the big screen. You kept sharing favourite moments in low whispers, gasping at favourite scenes and the cinematography, exchanging kisses between sips of the sweet Champagne and handfuls of popcorn. At one point you had playfully pinged a piece at Adam in the dark, ensuing a fit of giggles and play fighting before descending into the most erotic of kisses that left your head reeling. You really were like two horny teenagers, and both loving it.

The film ended and before the end credits had even started rolling you made a hasty exit to the car before the crowds spilled out into the lobby.

Back in the safety of the darkened sedan, the pair of you were gushing over each other about the movie – _what you’d seen of it,_ you joked, both encouraging the nerdier side of each other with your excessively encyclopaedic film knowledge – his near obsessions with 70s police and drama movies, your fondness for early sci-fi, taught thrillers and auteur comedies. Plus you both LOVED culty cheesy action movies. You loved his energy when he described something he loved, his hands so expressive, his hesitation even when speaking fast, always wanting to use the right words, his eloquence. You made him laugh with your impressions of Dustin Hoffman and Billy Crystal, goofing and riffing off The Graduate and When Harry Met Sally.

You were at the restaurant in no time and ushered in again, via the kitchens, before a sweetly old fashioned Maitre D’ fussed over setting you at a small, candle lit oak table in a cosy corner of Il Buco.

The restaurant was tiny, bathed in a warm orange candle glow, and – that evening – packed. As you sat, rearranged your hair and reapplied your lipstick before picking up the menu to peruse it you felt Adam’s foot brush against your calf, nestling his long leg between yours. He was drinking you in with his eyes as he slowly sipped from a glass of water and you gazed back at him from over the top of your menu, neither of you wanting to be the first to lower their eyes.

The crowd in the restaurant was mostly in their 40s, 50s, older couples or groups of friends. It was full, but pleasantly relaxed. You could tell a few people had recognized Adam and there was the occasional glance over, but you were comfortable now, captivated solely by him and the space you were both inhabiting in that moment that was just yours. No one was causing any noise. You felt your shoulders relax and the conversation flowed freely.

The food was excellent, the wine kept coming and you felt him relax too, even more – letting you in. He spoke for a long time about the frustration he’d felt at dropping out of the Marines; a regret you still felt brought him a quiet tension, the rage that simmered just below the surface of so many of his roles and characters. You talked him through the death of your father, feeling a need to share that most painful part of you. You couldn’t remember ever having shared this much even with James, in a year together – that relationship whilst intensely physical was almost entirely a power play, never an equal sharing, you felt always a need to hide most of yourself from him, to play a part. This was an entirely new experience.

Adam was a talker which came as a surprise, until he admitted it was only if he felt he had something to share and with someone he trusted. But even more, he was a listener. He was attentive, focused, and yes – intensely serious when you were speaking and he was explaining. But then a moment would click, you’d share a joke and his broad, full smile would completely illuminate his face, eyes twinkling, those slightly too large teeth, the freckles and beauty marks at the corner of his cheeks and eyes crinkling as he laughed with complete and genuine warmth.

Time rolled later and later, neither of you wanting to go anywhere even as it approached midnight. This being New York some people were still coming in for dinner, although the room was now half empty.

“You want to grab dessert?” Adam asked, you could tell he could still eat half the menu and grinned at him.

“Tiramisu to share?” you suggested.

He grinned back. Then hesitated. “Do you… uh, do you want to get it to go?”

You knew what he was asking. You both were thinking it, there was no point pretending. In any other scenario you would have gone home with him without hesitation, probably never even making it to the movie theatre. You’d certainly wanted to, but this wasn’t ordinary, and you were no longer the young and unguarded person you used to be.

Your need to pace kicked in. No matter how much you craved him, the obvious desire, you just needed this to go slow. You needed to know within yourself that this could be more and could be safe in the long run – not that you feared him, at all, you trusted him implicitly – you were just so wary of the glaring pressure of fame hanging over this whole blossoming situation.

You looked at him and took his hand across the table. He immediately sensed your guard up and brought your hand up to kiss the knuckles, almost reverent.

“Don’t even answer, I pushed. I know. Sorry. You were really clear.” He waved his hands as if to dismiss anything he’d just said, and looked down at his plate.

“You’re not pushing.” You reassured him, “Who are we kidding? I want this as much as you.” You chuckled “I want to go home with you. I just… you know where I’m at. I just need to get used to this”

He nodded. “I know. I understand and I want you to feel comfortable. It’s literally all I care about. I… you’re breathtaking…” He laughed quietly to himself, then looked disarmingly at you, “You’ve thrown me for a loop.”

You raised an eyebrow at him cheekily, shooting him a coy look. The waiter chose that moment to come over and without even look at him you both just said “The tiramisu” in unison. He disappeared.

“I’ve thrown _you_ for a loop? Me? Well guess what? _I’m_ thrown. Off a goddamn skyscraper!” You chuckled.

The tiramisu arrived, two spoons – the waiter was cleverer than you had given him credit for. You settled back into your quiet ease now you were both on the same page, which didn’t stop the foot play under the table, the heated glances, the silences filled with want.

Adam was about to pay the bill, when a couple in their forties came over to your table, looking a little sheepish but excited at the same time. You didn’t know where to look, it was obvious they wanted to speak to Adam and you felt, weirdly, like you’d somehow stepped into his space suddenly rather than being his date. He looked at you then turned to them, realising they were there. You weren’t sure if he’d be pissed off, but they didn’t wait to find out.

“Hi, we’re really sorry to interrupt. We’re, um, could we take a picture? My husband and I are such big fans of your work.”

Adam looked a little flustered, but calmly put down the napkin he had been folding and turned in his chair to face them fully. He snapped straight into Adam Driver: Actor mode, smiling, courteous, charming. You watched this little exchange with wonder, the surrealism of it, of witnessing this first hand.

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you.” He said, shaking the husband’s hand as the lady fished her phone out of her bag, “We saw you on Broadway a couple of years ago, it was fabulous. Would you, um, mind if we…”

“Oh sure. Here, let me.” He looked frustrated for a moment, but it passed over his face in a millisecond, he glanced at you, eyes conveying to you he was sorry but you just nodded back with a smile, _it’s ok_.

He turned back at them and smiled then got up from his chair and put his arm around the lady and her husband, angling her phone to take a selfie - you could see him fiddling with the settings which she had to help him with – you giggled to yourself in the corner – eventually managing a selfie with them, which clearly made their day.

“Thank you, thank you so much. Our son is such a huge Star Wars fan, he’ll be crazy about this. Have a lovely evening, so sorry for disturbing.” She packed her phone away and gave you a cursory little nod before they both walked away.

“Wanna get out of here?” He said quickly once they were out of earshot. You could sense he definitely did.

“Yes. Let’s hatch our escape”.

He signalled to the Maitre D’, shaking his hand and giving him a pat on the back – he clearly dined here regularly, before putting on his jacket, baseball cap and taking you by the hand. You walked out through the kitchen to the parking lot where the sedan was waiting.

Just before getting in, Adam swooped in to kiss you in the darkness, it was heated and tender – a promise. You kissed back with urgency, caressing his tongue with yours, wanting to never stop tasting him. He tasted of tiramisu, his lips sugared, lush with wine.

“Thank you for an amazing date.” He spoke into your mouth. “I’m going to take you home now. But then I’m going to think about you. All night. I want to make sure I can still taste you when I wake up.”

His openly voiced desire and unashamed honesty made your knees weak. You pulled at his hair, kissing him harder, your hand reaching under his shirt, your nails against his skin, wanting to feel the burn of his skin against your hand. He was hard, you could feel him pressing against you. You almost stopped breathing, it had been so long since you’d felt this good, this much on fire.

“I want to taste you too, I want to make sure you’re hard in the morning when you remember me.” The words spilled out of you without even thinking and you took yourself by surprise. You licked gently at his tongue, took his bottom lip in your mouth, bit down gently to mark him. He groaned into you.

“Amy….” He broke away, eyes wild. You both stood for a moment, collecting yourselves, your wits. He looked up at the sky for a moment, closing his eyes and letting out a short, sharp laugh. You laughed with him, hugging him tightly.

“What are we like?” you giggled into him, _what the hell the guy in the sedan must be thinking_ , you wondered.

“Two horny-ass teenagers who need to go home?” He shot back, eyebrows raised. He kissed the top of your head and you both gently unwrapped from each other to stroll back to the car.

The ride home was quiet as the car headed first to your apartment. You leant your head on his shoulder, his hand in yours, tiredness overwhelming you both for a moment. You knew then that you wanted this more than anything. You knew there were going to be hurdles and compromises, and challenges and all sorts of things thrown your way. That your life was going to take a marked new direction you had never envisaged. But in that moment, you knew you were not only more than strong enough to handle it, but that he would fight to make it work.

When you got to yours Adam actually had to nudge you as you’d fallen asleep against his chest.

“Hey, we’re here…” He lifted your chin with his finger, kissing your face gently to rouse you. You shook yourself awake, embarrassed, then kissed him back sweetly. All innocence now, you just wanted to bury your head against his neck, smelling his warmth and the faint musk of his cologne.

“Thank you this evening. I had… a really good time. That’s my first proper date in… I don’t even remember.” you spoke into his shirt.

“Same, I think my last date was like, probably burgers at Five Guys when I was at Julliard, or something lame like that.” He chuckled.

“We can both agree you’ve progressed, then.” You quipped, as you gathered your bag and slipped your red pumps back on. He swiped at your shoulder then pulled you in for a final hug before you got out of the car.

“Sleep well. I don’t know when I can next see you but I promise it will be soon. As soon as I can possibly make it.”

“I shall look forward to it eagerly, Mr. Driver” You said softly, in a mock posh English accent.

It took you forever, but you eventually relinquished and scooted out of the car. You stood on the sidewalk as the sedan made its way into the early hours of the morning. You needed a moment of fresh air before heading back to your cramped apartment. You sat on the stoop of your building, breathing in the New York summer air, hearing distant voices of people returning home from bars, clubs, taxi cabs rushing along, wind rattling against fire escapes and lamp posts.

Your phone pinged. You almost didn’t dare read it.

It simply said.

“I CAN STILL TASTE YOU. YOU'RE DELICIOUS. ADAM X”

The last of your defences crumbled into the night.


	7. Orange Trees Grow in Brooklyn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which enough is enough and there's too much want.  
> ***  
> THE SMUT IS HERE PEOPLE! This chapter is Definitely an M.  
> ***  
> Get yourself a cup of tea, get comfortable, it's a long chapter. It took me AGES to write this as I wanted to try not to have it porno / tacky, but I am NOT a smut writer so bear with me, I hope I have done this justice!!!  
> ***  
> I don't own Adam, or have anything to do with him or his life / personal anything. In this fic I try to draw on real moments and all locations, places, companies, etc are real and exist. Adam is single in this AU.  
> ***  
> Feedback keeps me going, I am bowled over by the amazingly kind comments so far, so thanks again to ANYONE, EVERYONE who has taken time to read this. I hope you are all staying safe!

The next few days following your “first date” flew by in a haze. You recognised the heady, floating and intoxicating sensation of those first moments of something new, exiting, tentative – love? You didn’t know, but you knew it felt different, special.

Adam had gone back upstate for a final week’s reading prep with his coach before rehearsals officially began and, as much as you wanted him, craved seeing him, this enforced space and time apart allowed you to digest what was happening, to refocus, centre, work on calming your ever present nerves and think about where this might go.

Spurred by this burgeoning bubble of intense feeling, of exhilaration, you threw yourself into a burst of activity, finishing your dissertation and even coordinating a meeting with your theatre crew to look at working on an expanded cycle of adaptations to bring to the stage, buoyed with confidence from the success of your first performance.

Not that you didn’t hear from him. Somewhere between your early scant exchanges and now, he’d mastered the art of texting – still clunky and all caps (it was too much part of how you knew him now, you hoped it never changed), but more wordy. More intimate. You rarely heard from him, except snippets here and there usually late at night, but the messages were tender, filled with warmth, humour, detail... barely disguised want.

Adam was not a lover of phones – understatement: he was a total technophobe – and you knew if he was training for a role he’d be all in, focused, not one to be distracted, all in his head. He’d explained this, explained he would likely go quiet. Explained his almost obsessive concentration when learning a character. You didn’t mind at all. You knew the drill. Admired it. If anything, it just informed even more every reason you desired him as you did.

The absence, however, was making the desire within you grow stronger by the day. The sparsity of contact made every message, every stolen conversation more precious.

***

_12.02 am – Friday - “I NEED TO TASTE YOU AGAIN, IT’S DRIVING ME CRAZY. A X”_

_19.00 pm – Saturday_ \- _“FOUND A NEW RUN TRACK THROUGH THE FOREST THIS MORNING. IT’S BEAUTIFUL. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL. WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I WANT TO PICTURE YOU. I HOPE YOU’RE DOING SOMETHING HAPPY. A X_

_01.00 am – Monday - “CAN’T SLEEP. I’M DOING SO MUCH READING, MY EYES HURT. ARE YOU ASLEEP? SORRY IF I WOKE YOU. I WANT TO KNOW THE SMELL OF YOUR SKIN WHEN YOU SLEEP. A X”_

_02.00 am – Monday - “I was asleep. Now I’m awake, mind too busy. I miss your fingers against my skin, your hands, your mouth. Amy x”_

_06.30 am – Monday “JESUS. JUST SAW THIS. YOU’RE MAKING THIS HARD. YOU’RE MAKING ME HARD. A X_

***

Not a few times over the week you’d caught yourself waking to a feverish blush brought on from reading his messages, trying to picture him: eyes still sleepy, waking in a soft bed in a lodge somewhere, all rumpled duvet, pillows tossed to the ground and his large body splayed across the mattress. His hair in disarray, a stray curl over his eyes, body taut and naked, the early sunlight playing off the freckles and marks of his cheeks, his full lips, fingers of light gliding over the planes of his broad chest.

You imagine silky black hair in the curve of his armpits lying in dark in contrast to the milky skin of his muscled arms, a faint line of soft black fuzz trailing down from his lower belly to a curly, dense tuft at the apex of his thighs, his thick cock, semi-hard in his half-woken, drowsy state, those long legs tangled up in bunched up sheets… you scrunched your eyes shut, a burning heat between your legs, thoughts a jumble of hot messes in your head as you struggled to swallow, your mouth dry.

It was where all your thoughts were going, all day and all through the fevered nights when you struggled to fall asleep.

***

Rose couldn’t help but poke fun at your constant distraction, and you were grateful for her humour and discretion so you could unleash your doubts, joys and frustrations at her.

“Amy, every day that goes by since you last saw Adam seems to increase the number of typos in your emails and spilt coffees on your shoes exponentially. Science.”

“I’m a fucking mess. Rose, I can’t concentrate on ANYTHING.” You shook your head in frustration.

“Girl, if I knew that THAT… that HE was the gift waiting for me at the end of however many days… I’d be walking into lampposts and falling down stairs. No need to explain. And to be fair, you’ve finished a dissertation and are practically relaunching your theatre career in his absence, so, hardly unproductive… what’s a few spilled coffees, right?”

“It’s like I’ve found a new energy, like he’s drawing out the creative in me. I’m settling into myself again.”

“This from one date? Oh, he is goooood.”

“I can’t explain it. It’s like, he just clicks” You gestured at your head, tapping a finger against your temple “Up here. He makes sense to me, gets me. My brain.”

“He’s so hot, my brain would be scrambled fucking eggs if I were in your position.”

“HAHAHAHAHA. Seriously though.” You pursed your lips, brow knotted. “He’s back next week. I don’t know what happens next….”

Rose raised a single eyebrow at you and mocked smooching noises. “YA YOU DO.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and giggled.

“ROSE! Haha seriously, for one second. Hahaha. It’s all… I don’t know. He’s going to be busy… there’s…well you’ll find out soon enough but I don’t know if he’s going to have time for any sort of….”

“Jesus Amy, I don’t know what this guy needs to do to convince you but ‘busy shmizzy’. That never stopped anyone who wants something and he is clearly bowled over by you. Embrace it. Enjoy it. Call his… whatever, PA and make sure you’re clear on managing this, but you will. Just go with the flow. I’ve never seen you this buzzing! It’s GOOD.”

“It is, isn’t it?” You looked over at her. Partly looking for reassurance, partly just expressing the hope and growing certainty in your heart. She simply smiled, giving you all the reassurance and joy she could transmit to you in her eyes.

***

The week stretched unimaginably. Endlessly. Achingly. Fevered dreams. Adam in your bed. In your head. Between your legs. Several times you’d cried out in your sleep, waking drenched in sweat.

***

Saturday rolled around and you were heading to Tisch University to hand in your dissertation and check your tutor group mailbox. That morning, Adam had called you – it was a brief 3 minutes as he was getting ready for a full day, but enough for his voice to turn your knees to honey and your heart to flame.

_“Amy.”_

_“Hi!”_

_“I miss you.”_

_“You do? It’s only been a week.”_

_“Fuck. A long fucking week.”_

You smiled, biting your lip. Reaching out in the empty air for his face that wasn’t there.

_“I miss you too. But I’ve been busy. I’m going to restart the theatre production crew. Formally. We met yesterday. We’re going to put on a proper production, a play cycle. Get other performance troupes involved.”_

_“That’s awesome! Good idea. You know… I know you’ll handle this more than fine without me, but if you need any contacts or anything, support on the production side. I don’t want to butt in, but…”_

_  
“I appreciate it. I know you’d never ‘butt in’. I… Listen, I need to do this on my own. It’s important. I can’t use your name, your…”_

_“I know. I get it. You don’t need me anyway, you’ll be amazing at this. Just… you know… know that if you ever need anything, anything, I would help. Even just as a sounding board, or something.”_

_“I know. Thank you.”_

_“I’m so fucking tired. Medea…the script, it’s awesome, but I’m so tired. Max (his coach) is training me hard. I love it, it’s exciting, you know, but it’s… there’s a lot of intensity, a lot of work I need to bring to rehearsals, it’s drawing on some stuff, a lot of emotion, physicality, some dark stuff I’ve not thought about in a long time.”_ He sounded sad for a moment, you wanted to be there to hold him. _“I thought of you last night. I’m coming back on Monday. If I could see you?” –_ His tone was weary, his voice soft, ragged.

_“I want to see you so much. I’m here Monday. I…” you hesitated, then “ Adam, I’m thinking about you. A lot. It’s…”_

_“Me too. More than…”_

_“… than you thought you would?”_

_“No, I knew I would, I just didn’t expect it to be so much, so soon, and so…”_

_“…I feel it too.”_

_Silence._

_“Monday?” he reiterated his question._

_“Monday. Call me when you get back. I… um, have a good day.”_

_“You too.”_

So many unspoken words that didn’t need saying.

You walked into the university, marching past the welcome office to head to the mail room when you heard a voice call out

“Oh Amy? Amy Myers?”

A woman had popped her head out of the reception office and was holding up a note in her hand.

“Yes?” you turned to facer her.

“Amy, Performance study group 51, right?

“Yep, that’s me”

“Thought so. There was a call left for you this morning. They didn’t have your cell phone so, I guess they knew you studied here.”

“Oh, ok. Cool. Know what it’s about?”

  
“It’s a production agency. Perry Street?”

“Oh?” You were intrigued, they were well known. You took the note from the woman’s hand with a quizzical look. “Okay… thanks. Thank you”.

“No problem”.

You stared at the number on the yellow Post-It. _Perry Street production agency? How?_ Your mind immediately went to Adam, but dismissed it immediately. You’d only spoken to him a few hours ago. Also, you trusted him implicitly. This had nothing to do with him. _Actually, I don’t even know what this is. _You immediately went to the restroom for some privacy to give them a call back.

Twenty minutes later you were sat on the floor of the restroom, staring in disbelief at the ceiling, your heart in your mouth. Perry Street Theatricals, one of New York’s better known independent theatre production companies wanted to meet you to potentially back the production of a full run of your work. Off Broadway. The dream.

Your cast mate Jonathan’s friends had brought one of Perry Street’s theatre managers to the show you’d put on – unbeknownst to any of you – and they’d been so impressed they’d been trying to get in touch with you for a meeting all week. You didn’t even know where to begin your head was so full of excitement and emotion.

You rang Rose and arranged to meet her as soon as her shift finished.

Then you message Adam. You knew he’d be busy, but HAD to tell him. You fired off a text, your fingers barely able to form the words.

“ADAM! Just had a call with Perry Street Theatricals. They want to fund a production run. My work! Off Broadway!!! I can’t even believe it!! I’m meeting them next week. UNREAL!”

You clutched your phone to your chest and let out a small scream.

***

The weekend flew by – you’d arranged to meet Guy Adams at Perry Street Theatricals on Monday morning to discuss their proposal. You were taking Jonathan with you as support, also because you knew you’d want him as your right hand man for any new production they’d want to fund.

Adam had called you briefly very late on Saturday night, he sounded tired but excited for you, apologising for his sleepiness and silence. “You’re amazing. You deserve this, so, so much. I wish I could kiss you right now”. You’d promised to let him make it up to you Monday evening, with a smile.

On Sunday afternoon you were sat in your apartment, relaxing for the first time all weekend with a book when you got a text from Hannah.

“Hey Amy, are you home for the next hour?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. Hang tight.”

 _Cryptic much?_ You delved back into your book, wondering what she meant…

An hour or so later, the doorbell rang.

“Delivery for an Amy Myers?”

You buzzed the delivery guy in and heard him climb the stairs with effort and as he got to your floor, you saw why.

The delivery guy was concealed behind what you could only describe as… a… tree? You burst out laughing. _What the hell?_

You let the guy into your apartment and directed him to a space beside your couch, in the light of your window where he eventually put down the huge barrel plant pot.

“Man, that was heavy.” He said, wiping his brow, “I don’t know who this guy is, but he _likes_ you.” He added as he handed you a delivery note to sign.

You didn’t even know what to say as you showed him out, then turned back to admire the gift. It was an orange tree, already pretty huge in size, in a hand carved wooden barrel pot. It was beautiful. A note was stuck in the pot. It wasn’t hand written, but then you knew why. The words read:

BECAUSE YOUR KISSES TASTE LIKE ORANGES, AND I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN. CONGRATULATIONS, ADAM X

You blushed a furious shade of red, hoping against hope that Hannah hadn’t read the card, then realising he’d have had to arrange the delivery through her and had likely dictated it. Your embarrassment only last so long, the gesture was so kind and made you feel so many feelings you stopped giving a crap. Hannah, after all, was about to become the custodian of many more secrets and paid for her discretion. You sent her a short message.

“GOT THE PLANT! OH MY GOD, THANK YOU!”

“Thank Adam”

“Oh, I will.”  
  


“That boy is smitten as all hell.”

***

The following day, Monday, 11 am.

You and Jonathan sat at a kerbside table at a small café in Midtown, sipping on frozen coffees and staring at each other wide eyed, in complete stunned silence. You weren’t sure who was going to speak first, both of you were struck dumb.

Eventually he broke the silence.

“4 weeks.”

You eyeballed him back.

“4 weeks.” You repeated.

“HOLY. SHIT.”

“SHIT. ON. A. STICK.”

“Amy, this is beyond anything… I mean, a 4 week run??? This is, this… is…. is this…??”

“THE MOMENT???”

“The moment…” he left the words hanging. You went back to sipping your frozen coffee, stupefied into silence.

You’d gone into the meeting expecting a grant check to allow you to hire a theatre for a couple of evenings to run your show a few extra nights.

Instead, Perry Street Theatricals wanted your small crew to expand your adaptations show into a full blown, 4 week theatre event, bringing together small troupes to perform short adaptations into a 2- hour nightly format. They would fund the production through their charity arm which allocated money each year to support new theatrical writing and for agents to uncover new talent. You literally just had to cover the costs of your set and costumes, the management company would handle everything else. The pay was awful as it was charity but neither of you cared, nor were you doing this for the bucks. The exposure was INSANE and frankly, this was a labor of love for you – both you and Jonathan until that moment had given up any hope of making it in theatre beyond your own funded experiments.

You just both gaped at the sidewalk, smiles like deranged sloths on your faces.

A small rumble grew inside you as you realised this was what you had been working and wanting for so long. All the shit you’d endured, the heartache, the disappointment when you first tried to crack the theatre circuit. But you’d not given up. You’d battled on, working away, making your ends meet to pursue your dream. And it was paying off. And you done it all yourself, through your own graft.

In that moment you wanted to see Adam so badly, to share this, without any timidity or self-deprecation. It felt like one tiny barrier between your two incredible different lives had just fallen down. NO, you weren’t ever going to be ‘A HOLLYWOOD STAR’. Nor did you ever want to be. That had never been his goal either, just how the chips had fallen. He deserved it, but you knew the cost of it, of the fame, on him. But you had worked your ass off and here, finally, was the recognition in your field. The industry you adored saying, “yes, well done”. And that you had in common. And you knew, you just knew he would swell with pride for you. 

And you knew when you saw him that evening that any semblance of restraint, barriers, protection would be down, that he was not going to hurt you. And you wanted him, badly.

***

You were buzzing the whole walk to Adam’s that evening, deciding to make the trip on foot to his apartment to get some air and calm your mind down from the onslaught of emotions that had slammed you all day.

You’d arrange to meet that evening over the weekend, no specific plans. When his text came through mid-afternoon, he’d most likely taken a nap to catch up on the exhaustion of his week at training, it simply read:

“MY PLACE, 6PM? NEED YOU.”

You didn’t need much more of an invitation. The heat of the city had become intense towards the late afternoon, humid, sticky, air thick, so you wore the lightest white cotton strap dress you could find and a simple pair of leather thong sandals. You grabbed a shoulder bag, in which you’d stuffed a toothbrush, mascara and a change of panties, before dabbing on a slick of lipstick as you headed out the door. You were under no illusion of where this evening would lead, if he wanted it even half as badly as you did.

When you got to his apartment, you paused for a moment at the bottom of the stoop, taking in a deep breath. Gathering your thoughts. You’d only known Adam a very short while, and this whirlwind seemed surreal and yet. And yet – in the short time together there was a familiarity reaching deep into your bones, a sort of whispered commonality, two souls with a quiet understanding. You knew that letting your guard down, this step of intimacy – the first since you’d walked out of your abusive relationship, was an act of bravery for yourself. You needed to make that clear to Adam no matter how heated the evening got, you needed him to be on your page, open to the damage in your heart.

You walked up and rang the bell.

No sooner had you stepped over the threshold of his apartment lobby than his front door opened at the end of the entrance hall corridor and Moose dashed out, legs prancing, tail wagging and his tongue wagging in a ridiculous display of excitement. He bounded up to you and jumped up to your knees woofing happily as you kneeled down to bring him into a huge hug. As you clutched Moose and scratched behind his ears you saw Adam jog up behind him, a look of pure lust on his face as your eyes locked on each other and he took you in – your long red hair falling in waves down your back, the clinging white cotton dress thin against your tan skin, bare arms, red toe nails, a flush of arousal in your cheeks as you watched him walk towards you.

He swallowed, his eyes shining, and he bit his bottom lip, watching you as you let Moose go to stand up. You heart was drumming hard in your rib cage, the memory of his last kiss etched in your brain. He stood so tall above you, his hair still damp from a shower, brushed back from his face, a grey tshirt straining tight against his pectorals, his broad shoulders, a small triangle of damp making the cotton cling to his chest between his ribs. He stood bare foot in a pair of low slung jeans, looking down at you hungrily.

“Hi” you said, gingerly, your voice barely a whisper as you took a step into him and his hand reached out to cup your face.

He said nothing but tilted his head down to meet your lips, pulling you flush against him with his other arm, curling it fully round your waist as he pressed his lips to yours with an audible moan, muttering your name into your mouth as he licked your lips apart, coaxing your tongue with his. Somewhere you heard Moose pattering across the lobby floor back to the apartment, half thinking you should do the same, but your mind fogged over as the hot wet heat of Adam’s kisses sent you spiralling.

You brought your hands up to his shoulders, dragging your fingernails along the base of his neck, up into the thick of his hair, carding your fingertips through the damp locks, tugging at them to coax his mouth wider, eliciting a whimper of pleasured pain. As your tongues danced, Adam’s fingers on the arm around your waist grazed up against the side of your ribs, his fingertips teasing the skin just under the swell of your breasts, the soft skin taut across your ribcage. You pulled away from him with a gasp, a thin beaded line of saliva hung between your lips as you did, which he swiped from your plump lower lip with his thumb before licking it.

“We should…”

“..Go inside? Yes. Fuck yes.” He almost growled the words out, giving you the briefest of kooky smiles and a soft kiss before turning on his heel and pulling you by the hand down the hall.

He’d barely kicked the door shut before pulling you to him again, enveloping you in his arms, lips frantically seeking yours, noses clashing, teeth grazing, a breathless gasp – you weren’t even sure whose, as he walked, or rather carried you over to the kitchen island counter and you dropped your bag to the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist, digging your nails into the tender skin of his neck and seeking out his sweet, hot tongue.

He sat you on the edge of the counter, leaning into you, kissing you hard, making the hairs on your arms shiver and a slick of heat rise in your lower back, the backs of your eyes burning. He slid his large hands up to your waist, the tips of his thumbs resting just under your breasts, teasing around them – he bit down in surprise when he noted you weren’t wearing a bra, moaning softly, his hips pressing into you where your dress had bunched up between your legs. He was hard, straining against his jeans, your need for him causing you to whimper, bite his lip, make him growl. He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, panting gently as his eyes bore into yours. You breathed his name, bringing your fingers to his lips as his face broke into a soft, almost sheepish expression, a crooked smile blessing his lips.

“So…I had a whole plan, I made dinner… I was going to be all…”

You chuckled, eyes not leaving his as you stroked his full bottom lip, pink and swollen.

“We both want this, I want this. I want you. Now.”

He let out a small sigh in relief, planting soft kisses against your fingers, then drawing your index finger into his mouth, sucking gently as he watched the expression in your eyes, the heat rising in your cheeks, before reaching up taking your hand, drawing your finger slowly from his mouth to kiss your palm.

“Dinner can wait…” he stated, before lifting you clean off the counter to carry you to his bedroom.

***

His room was on the mezzanine floor, a galleried open plan floor overlooking the living space. Adam dropped you down to the ground gently as you got to his room, arms still holding you close, his hand smoothing stray locks of your hair behind your ears as he pressed hot kisses across your forehead, cheeks, nose, mouth, the tips of his fingers caressing the side of your cheek so softly, his whole body suddenly softened, his eyes drinking you in with a quiet awe.

You trembled as a cool breeze came in from the open window, the evening light obscured by dark curtains. As Adam continued his kisses, he whispered gently “I want you, I want to take this slowly, taste every inch of you.”

  
Your entire body was absolutely aching with want, heat coming off you in waves, your pupils blown as your eyes sought his in the half dark of the room. It used every ounce of resistance in you to hold yourself back and keep your arms at your sides as you nodded a quiet acquiescence. You wanted the same thing, to explore him, explore what you both liked, needed, to learn each other’s bodies in the dark.

Slowly he pulled at the hem of his t shirt, never leaving your gaze as he pulled it over his head and let it fall to the ground. His chest was rising and falling with hitched breaths, his body so broad, so tall, the milky skin stretched taut across his muscles, a pale sheen of sweat in the dip of his neck. You reached out and lay your palm over his heart, your hand so tiny against him. You trailed your hand down, grazing ever so softly over his nipple, causing his breath to catch and a low moan escape his lips. Your hand continued to explore, fingers running the length of his torso, along each arm, tracing the damp line of soft hair on his belly which you wanted to lick so badly, a quiet hum between your bodies as he watched you. You could see him hard in his jeans, the swell of his cock. Your fingers trailed down to the fabric of his jeans, circling the button at the top, tracing the edge where denim met skin, teasing him, wanting him.

“Fuck.” He just breathed out, biting down, wiping a hand over his face, desperate. He was, quite simply, breath taking.

He went to kneel down, bringing his eyes level with your belly, looking up to you with a silent request, waiting for permission, which you granted with a small smile. He reached out and removed each of your sandals, gently, taking his time, fingers caressing your ankles. Slowly then, his hands slid up your legs, the pads of his fingertips stroking up the backs of your knees causing a slight buckle as he leaned in and press his lips to your belly, kissing it through the cotton of your dress. You sighed, running your fingers through his hair as his hands continued their journey up your thighs, sliding under your dress to caress the curve of your hips, sliding your dress up as he went, his hands cupping your bum as he pressed his face in to your belly and breathed in your scent, letting out a low growl as your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping hard as you felt a dampness seep between your legs, his hot breath against your belly, his hot hands against your skin.

Slowly he slid the dress up, lifting your arms as he slid it over your head, pulling you in against his chest. Your small breasts brushed against the skin of his chest, the buds of your nipples swollen, sensitive, flushed a deep pink. As they grazed against his skin, you pressed your hips into him, against his erection, pressing your mouth against the side of his neck to lick his skin, stroking your tongue across the nape, planting hot kisses in the dip, licking the trickle of sweat from his Adam’s apple.

Adam looked down at you, your flushed skin, half-closed eyes, milk-white breasts pressed against him, your lips plump and wet like a ripe fig. He let out a shuddered groan, shaking his head, letting out the pent up frustration coursing through his body.

“Jesus, Amy, I’m struggling here. I’ve never wanted anything so badly.”

he worried at his bottom lip, visibly trembling.

You simply stretched your hand up to grip the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss so fiery it almost took you both by surprise. He moaned into your mouth loudly, gripping the flesh of your sides, your hips, the soft curve of your rear, his large hands wanting to touch you everywhere, your hot hands stroking against his skin, nails dragging along his muscles, your small, high sighs of satisfaction making him harder than he thought possible. His tongue travelled down the side of your neck to trail bites into the softness of your skin, suckle your earlobe, his long fingers sliding to take a breast in his hand, cupping it, stroking the hardened bud of your nipple, pressing into you, revelling in the feel of your small body melt into his.

“Pants. Off.” You breathed against his ear, tickling the skin there. He didn’t need much encouragement as he struggled with the zipper trying to slide his jeans off without abandoning his studious, burning exploration of your skin with his tongue and lips. You were both stood, naked except for your underwear, flustered, hot, aroused, standing so close you could almost taste his skin, feeling his breath and yours between your parted lips.

You reached down between you and gently stroked two fingers along the cotton of his black briefs, grazing against his erection, feeling its length, how hard he felt, a damp patch at the tip of his head. He said nothing but gazed down at you, struggling to breathe evenly, eyes wide and lips in a small “o” as you pressed harder, cupping him gently, licking your lips as you smiled a wicked smile up at him.

“These. Off.”

You were aching between your legs, panties wet at the thought of him inside you, his tongue between your legs, his cum on your lips, a smell of heated arousal clung in the air around you. As soon as his briefs were off, flung to the other side of the room, Adam stood tall, at once almost primal in how he looked at you, and yet totally vulnerable. You could have caught fire right then. You walked slowly back until the back of your knees hit the bed, taking his hand and guiding you with him as he ran his other hand through his hair and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. You sat down and pulled him to you, one hand around his thighs. You wrapped the fingers of your other hand around his cock, causing him to buckle as he moved even closer to you, looking down into your eyes in awe of you.

“I want to taste you” you breathed, the words leaving hot breath trails against the taut skin of his shaft, causing it to twitch. Your hand stroked gently along his erection, your eyes taking him all in as he closed his eyes and pushed into your grip, his skin so smooth and soft, his cock thick and so hard, the black curly tufts of his pubic hair wiry in contrast to the baby soft fuzz of his happy trail. He smelled of musk, caramel and sex. As one hand reached down to cup your cheek, his eyes pleading at you like a man starved, you darted your tongue out and softly lapped at the salty droplet of pre cum glistening on the swollen head of his cock before taking him in your mouth. He was everything you desired in that moment, feeling him weaken at the knees struggling to stay standing as you took his length fully, then slowly releasing him, tongue teasing his head, lapping at the length of his shaft, sucking him off slowly, feeling him fill your mouth and hit the back of your throat. You worshipped him with your tongue, your mouth, your hands, stroking him in a long, slow rhythm making him moan and his hands grip your hair, his thumb at your lips wanting to feel them as they slid along his cock, his moaning of “fuck, FUCK” getting louder and louder until he pulled out, almost chuckling out his desire, stroking your lips as he leaned down to pull you into a searing kiss, tasting himself on your tongue as you scooted back along the bed allowing him to move over you, pressing the weight of his body into you as you stretched back into the soft sheets.

Your hair fanned out behind you, as he held his body above yours on one arm, panting out his arousal as he caught his breath, his eyes smiling at you as he nestled between your legs, his cock pressing against the soaking wet patch of your panties, his free hand brushing your hair back and settling behind your head. He kissed you softly, tenderly, the rise and fall of his belly against your skin making you prickle with want.

“I… wouldn’t have last much longer if you’d continued.” He giggled, “it’s been a while”. You pulled him down for a kiss wanting the weight of all of him against you, all of his skin against yours and he obliged, enveloping you in his strong body, covering you with hot kisses. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”, he mumbled as he nuzzled into the crook of your ear, gently pressing his erection against your thigh as you reached down to touch him there again, wanting to feel him.

“I want you Adam, please.” You could barely get the words out as he placed his mouth gently over yours, and dipped his tongue in, slowly, languidly, teasing, playing.  
  


“I want to taste you first, I need that.” As his hand slid your panties down along your legs and he sat back on his knees, between your thighs, gazing down at you spread across his sheets, an angel, noting delicate bite marks in the slope of your breasts and crux of your thighs where his teeth had left traces, his hand trailed slowly down from your neck, pads barely whispering over the skin of your breasts, the peaks of your nipples before smoothing over the dip of your belly and down to the soft, dark, damp curls of your pubic hair. He cupped you with his whole hand, feeling the heat against his palm as you pressed against him, arching your back up to meet the pressure. Gently, with his thumb, he traced between the wet curls, your pussy glistening, sweet and pink, swollen. Ever so slowly he trailed his thumb along the lips of your pussy, before sliding back up to find your clit, moistening it, then gently beginning a tortuously slow dance, stroking circles around the nub, making your hips buck – your eyes locked on each other’s as he continued, never increasing the pace, just slowly teasing you with every brush of his thumb. You squirmed, wanting to scream to make him go faster, yet at the same time never wanting this sweet torture to end. You clenched, a desperate ache building inside you. His eyes on you as he slowly teased the pleasure from you, his fingers slick with juices, was almost unbearable, then he slowly took his cock in his other hand and without ever leaving your gaze, started to stroke himself. He gripped harder, stroking up and down as he brought his soaked fingers to his mouth and licked them, tasting you, a whimper

“You do, you taste like oranges, so sweet. Jesus, I’m so hard.” He bent down, manoeuvring himself to slide down the bed and bury his face between your thighs. You arched back with pleasure as his full lips placed wet kisses along your inner thighs, his long eyelashes beating feather-light against your skin as he inched closer to your core. Your legs were jelly, your body on fire, you gripped the back of his head, needing him, needing his mouth. Gently, he placed a kiss against the lips of your pussy, nearly causing you to cry out as a jolt of pleasure ripped through you, emboldened by your reaction, he kissed again, the slowly traced the tip of his tongue along each of your pussy lips, before slowly starting to lap at your clit.

“Tell me what you like” he breathed as he gently slipped a finger into you, then another, so wet and hot for him. He looked at you with soft eyes from between your legs and you let out a small whimper.

“Just, go slowly, keep the rhythm… I, I feel it more on the left side.” You panted at him.

He took a slow swipe with his tongue against the left side of your swollen bud, watching your breasts rise as you bucked up into his mouth.

“Like that?”

  
“Yes… Keep going.”

He didn’t stop, his tongue keeping up a slow, exquisite pace as his fingers stroked inside you, steady, rhythmic, occasionally dipping kisses along your thighs, moaning your name against your skin, looking up at your every so often to watch your face, the arch of your back, making him come undone. You felt every nerve ending in your body pulsate, every fibre of your body alive, trembling, electric, the ache between your legs was growing, white heat pooling as Adam’s tongue relentlessly stroked against your clit. You knew your orgasm was close, your toes curling and muscles clenching, a bead of sweat running down your forehead as you pressed deeper into the sheets. You were so close, you need him inside you.

You pulled at him to come up, any patience and desire to take it slow had crumbled, your need was all consuming.

“Come inside me” you begged him with a kiss, to which he simply gathered your small frame into him, hungrily pressing kisses along your body, one hand frantically reaching out to the drawer of the bedside table, not wanting to be apart from you for even a second as he groped in the half-light for a condom as your bodies wound against each other.

“Yes!” he exclaimed with such childish enthusiasm as his fingers finally located a condom, you nearly broke into laughter as he fumbled quickly, ripping the packet with his teeth as you clenched your legs around him, your clit throbbing, all your senses in overload. He rolled the condom on, hands shaking – you could tell he was so close too, as he bit down on his lip just from the pleasure of sliding the condom down his cock.

“Amy, I’m so close. I…” You didn’t let him finish, just pulled him down into a feverish kiss, hand reaching down to pull him against you.

“Me too. I don’t care, just be inside me. I’m going to come really soon and want to feel you inside me when I do.”

That tipped him over the edge and bruising into a kiss, a deep growl rumbling from his chest he pulled your thigh up to wrap your leg around him, giving him access and he plunged fully into you, so slick and wet and oh so hot. He saw stars as he filled you, barely registering the sharp bite as you clenched hard on his lower lip, your heat enveloping him, the rapid pulsing of your pussy making his balls ache. You gripped him, trying to regulate your breath as the slow tide of your orgasm started to build, wanting to kiss him, taste his lips and at the same time wanting to watch him as he came, wanting him to see you, your eyes glaze as he made you come. He thrust slowly but hard, his hand against your cheek and lips just grazing yours as his breathing also slowed to meet yours, both of you trembling now, eyes seeking into each other’s, so many emotions bleeding into one another as he held you close, his gaze almost pleading you to let him come as you felt his thighs shake and his cock pulse inside you, up to the hilt.

“Yes” you simply said and your worlds fell apart.

Your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado, your body arching back in a torrent of pleasure as you felt him come undone inside you, his head between your breasts as he moaned, his hands in your hair and mouth sucking at the tender skin of your ribs as he shuddered out his orgasm. For what seemed eternal minutes you lay there, breathless, high as kites, slick with sweat and the thick scent of sex, your heartbeats rapid but beating in time. His lips whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he lay beside you, fingers playing a slow dance on the skin of your belly as you slowly came down from the high, your hands caressing his cheeks, tracing his ear, his neck. After a small eternity, he gathered himself up to pull the discarded bed sheet up over both of you, curling his body around you and pulling you into the most tender embrace, both of you a delicious mess.

“I don’t remember ever having sex like that.” He whispered into your neck, before placing a sweet butterfly kiss against your skin. “You blow me away.”

You turned slowly to face him, fitting so perfectly in his arms, never wanting to leave this warm, safe space, his hungry gaze.

“I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself sex like that, with anyone.” You said, laying your honesty at his feet. “I want to tell you what I like. I want to know what you like. I want you to know how to please me. I’ve never allowed myself that.”

“Why me?” he breathed, swallowing hard at your admission, wanting so much to hold you like that forever.

“I don’t know. It just feels… you feel right.” Your voice went small, terrified at this admission so soon in this new relationship, this moment. “I, sorry… I don’t want to freak you out.”

He looked at you with the serious Adam face, that angular face, so beautiful. “I’m so far from freaked out. I’m almost glad you said it first, I don’t know if I’d have admitted it but I feel the same. You’re so strong.” He gulped, reaching up and stroking your eyebrow, searching your eyes, your breaths mingling in the small soft space under the sheet. He closed his eyes and placed a chaste kiss on your mouth, uttering a million silent prayers into your lips. You pulled him close, your heart bursting at this man, this beautiful, tall, awkward, handsome man you were going to lose yourself to, with every happiness.

You lay like this for a long time, both just enjoying the quiet, your steady breathing, your heart beats, small, intimate exchanges with your eyes. Eventually you heard a low rumble and both of you erupted into fits of giggles.

“Was that your tummy?” you laughed.

Adam grinned, “Maaaaybe….”, laughing with you.

“I almost forgot the point of this was dinner…”

He lifted the bedsheet, sitting up and leaning over the side of the bed to hunt for his discarded t shirt and briefs. You pulled the bedsheet up to your chest, rubbing your eyes and tying your hair up in a makeshift bun from an elastic band you had on your wrist.

Adam turned to you as he pulled his t shirt over his head, still grinning.

“Lasagne and movie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow before leaning in to place a kiss on your nose.

“You made lasagne, hell yes!” You laughed.

Adam reached into a wardrobe along one wall of his room and pulled out a black Joy Division t shirt from a drawer, handing it to you.

“Thanks” you said, pulling it on, it nearly drowned you like a night dress. You crawled out of the warm bed, linking your hand in his as you made your way down the stairs to the kitchen. Your legs were still shaking, your body a hot mess. You found your bag by the kitchen counter and pulled on your spare panties. The evening had grown dark now, the breeze cooler, the kitchen lit only by a low frosted lantern light and the glow of the moon outside. Adam kissed you in the moonlight, as Moose – waking from his slumber, came to wag his tail at both of you, and nuzzle your toes.

“Want to go find a movie, I’ll bring the food over.” He kissed you again, not able to stop himself from wanting your sweet lips, over and over. You pulled him in once more, pressing against him as your tongue sought the softness of his, the lingering scent of your sex on his mouth. Then you left him to claim a spot on the sofa, Moose waddling behind you. You lit a couple of candles on the coffee table and curled yourself up in a thick wool throw that was draped over the back of the couch and Adam came over, two stacked plates and a bottle of water under his arm.

You settled in, him curled up beside you under the throw rug, night darkening outside, the faint crackle of candle light around you, both chatting away as you devoured the lasagne (which was excellent!). You told him about the meeting with the theatre agency, which he gushed over, mirroring your enthusiasm, kissing you, face filled with pride. He told you about the ‘homework’ he had to prepare ahead of his rehearsals for Medea, the challenges he would have delving into the character, the emotion. You held his face, sensing his anxieties, his need for control and perfection in his preparation, knowing he would likely go to some intense place in his head for a while. You stroked his face, allaying his fears that you wouldn’t understand.

As the night grew long and late, your bodies drowsy with sleep, you felt a warm tug inside you knowing you were rapidly, very rapidly, falling head over heels with this guy. As both of you settled in, cosy under the throw blanket to watch ‘Midnight Cowboy’, Adam’s arm holding you against his chest, fingers in your hair, little did you know that so was he. Falling hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping not to take as long as this for Chapter 8, but I also don't want to publish crappy writing so...


	8. Circle of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn the value of a circle of trust, explore Adam's AMPLE sized shower and the phone won't stop ringing.  
> ***  
> There. Be. Sexy Times. This is M for sure.   
> ***  
> I don't know Adam, own Adam, have anything to do with Adam or his life. This is an AU fic drawing from elements of reality and things we know. All locations mentioned exist as do brands etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO OVERWHELMED by all your feedback and amazing comments, kudos, etc I am so please dyou are enjoying it so far and all your comments make me just want to keep writing and writing. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, again it feels like a bit of a filler and I'm worried It repeats a few things, but I needed to get the point of airing some thoughts and the eventual dinner date invite... hope it works for you! Hope you are all staying safe and sane and well during these insane times! x

Chapter 8.

The ringing was muffled and distant but shrill enough to wake you with a jolt. For a moment you lay, one eye just about open, taking a second to remember where you were as you chased sleep from your brain. A weight against your body, soft and warm, pressed into the curve of your back, the form of a strong arm wrapped around your waist, long legs intertwined with yours, hot breath and eyelashes tickling the crook of your neck. You were cocooned in a tangle of throw blankets, curled up in the perfect cradle of Adam’s body; his lips pressed against your shoulder where you felt the tiniest of snores vibrate against your skin. For a few seconds you blocked out the ringing, a mobile phone on a counter somewhere at the other end of the room and just relished this moment, feeling every sinew and muscle of Adam’s body soft and relaxed against yours, memories of his kisses, the heat of his eyes, his hands holding you, his sex, your whispered exchanges as you’d fallen asleep on the couch in the midnight dark.

The ringing, however, was not letting you day dream for long and you roused fully from your drowsy state as you heard Adam stir behind you, pulling your even closer in as he mumbled,

“Urrgh….Go away, stupid phone!” groaning quietly into your t-shirt.

The phone was having none of it and kept its angry ring as you felt him slowly start to kiss your hair, your neck, the side of your face, nuzzling you with his nose, all the while whining mumbled complaints under his breath.

“No, no, no, no… Adam isn’t here right now…” he grumped, fingers searching for your skin under your t-shirt as you slowly turned to face him, twisting even further into the knotted blankets, meeting his lips with yours in a sweet, closed-eyed morning kiss. The phone stopped briefly as he pulled you flush into him, smiling against your teeth as he kissed you eagerly, his mop of hair twisting under your fingers, hands sliding up your back then round to curl his palm against the soft swell of your belly. You kissed him back tenderly, a familiar ache growing between your legs as you felt him harden against your thigh. He opened his eyes fully to meet yours, two pools of hazel drinking you in, the smile curling at his lips too adorable for words as he simply whispered

“Mmm, hello”.

You giggled softly against him. You had no idea what time it was, but judging by the pale fingers of sunlight piercing through the shutters of the living room and playing patterns against the oak wood flooring, you assumed it was still early light.

“Hello you.” You whispered back. “I think someone is trying to reach you…” you smiled.

Adam let out a groan, pursing his lips, then letting out a whoosh of air,

“Uuuurrrrghghghgh, can we make them go away?” he buried his face between your breasts and kept mumbling against your t-shirt “I just want to stay here. Literally, like this. Can I? I mean, I can see how this may be annoying for you after a while. You know, when you’re trying to go about your day. But… maybe we can find a way?”

You laughed out loud.

“Sure, you stay right there. I mean, we can walk Moose like this. Maybe go to the store with you still stuck with your face down there? I mean, that won’t arouse any suspicion at all.”

He grinned against your t-shirt, then lifted his sweet face up and looked at you like a ridiculous puppy.

“I want to fill your bellybutton with maple syrup and eat you like a pancake.” He said, placing a kiss against your belly, licking the bellybutton, making you tickle.

“You’re ridiculous” you giggled back.

“I’m deadly serious. And ridiculous. But you like it, really.”

“I do. I really do.” You smiled back.

He scooted his face up to kiss you when the phone burst to life again, trilling loudly across the room and eliciting another grumpy outburst from Adam who reluctantly unwound himself from you and pulled himself off the sofa. He stood for a moment, running a hand through his hair and wiping sleep from his eyes, stretching his arms behind his head and cricking his neck, impossibly tall. His t-shirt rose to expose a pale strip of his belly, his happy trail, the semi-erection outlined in his briefs. You bit your lip, he was outrageously beautiful, an outrageously beautiful man who last night had made you see stars, whose kisses burned still against your lips, whose mouth had made you lose your senses, whose late night words had made your heart sing.

You sat up on the sofa, trying to make yourself look vaguely less rumpled as Adam went over to the kitchen and picked the phone up from the counter.

“HANNAH! Hi, sure yeah… totally awake. Yup… I’m good. What’s today?” You heard him clatter about running water and filling the kettle, flipping it on, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a carton of juice from which he proceeded to gulp thirstily, all the while nodding his head, grunting “mmm hmmms” and “sure, yeps” down the phone. He wandered off into the alcove room where the jukebox was, chatting away as you got up from the sofa to go for a much needed pee.

You poked your head into the games room on your way to the bathroom and found Moose curled up in his hot dog bed, dreaming happy dog dreams with his chewed T-Rex between his teeth. Adam’s voice drifted in from the other room – you assumed it was Hannah’s regular check in to tell him where his life was going that day – a concept you were still struggling to get your head around.

You suddenly craved just being able to take Moose for a walk together with Adam, a stroll in the park, a game of ball chase, ice creams, a couple of cold beers by the riverfront.

With a sad sigh, you dismissed the thought. Firstly, this was still waaaay too new, secondly whatever this burgeoning relationship was you couldn’t even being to conceive of the notion of it being noted publicly, or speculated upon, or even remotely become something that could cause a strain on it so early in, either for your peace of mind, or Adam’s. You had your own theatre project to work on now, and you needed to focus and needed it to be a success, for yourself. It was your dream and you would do nothing to jeopardise it. For now, whatever this heavenly thing was, it was your secret. Your private affair. The less people knew about it, the better. If that was possible…

You went to the bathroom and pulled off your t-shirt and pants, turning on the shower – you smelled of stale sex and sweat, it wasn’t pretty. You stepped into the shower, silently wishing you had anything like this at home where your crappy half-clogged showerhead sprayed more water onto the bathroom floor than in to the actual shower cubicle. This was like a walk in closet, spray jets, marble tiles, a rainfall shower head. Bliss. You stood under the warm water, letting it runs across your shoulders, down your body – noting as you looked down the soft bite marks on your breasts, bringing a blush to your cheeks that Adam had marked you. Your shoulders ached from your strange curled position on the sofa. You wet your hair and grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the caddy, something blue – Baxters of California – it smelled of coconut and limes. As you massaged the shampoo into your hair you heard a knock against the open door.

“Oh, hey. Do I know you?” a low voice spoke. You turned in the shower and, wiping clear the steam against the glass, saw Adam walk in, stripping off his t-shirt and boxers as he shot you a quirky smile, eyebrows raised.

“Oh hi. No, sorry I just wandered in off the street and noticed you had this nice shower, soooo… I just thought I’d help myself” you quipped back, gazing back at him, drinking his naked body in as you watched him strip.

“Oh, ok. I’m all for helping where I can.” He grinned back at you.

Adam opened the glass door and stepped in, reaching out to stroke a hand along your side to rest at your hip as his other hand came up to cup your cheek and he leaned in to kiss you under the spray of water. He pulled you close, bending at the knee to hold your body flush against him, the water trickling down his back, wetting his hair, running in rivulets down his body, the spray bouncing off you both as you embraced, his mouth open and hungrily kissing you, tongue exploring, teasing, playing against your lips, stroking your tongue as your saliva mixed with the water raining down on you, pricking your skin pink with its heat.

You took his hand from your cheek and guided it slowly down to the wet curl of hair between your legs, hungry for his touch. He moaned loudly into your mouth as his fingers sought out your soft wetness, keening with heat as you parted your legs gently allowing him better access, his fingers slickening as he slid his long index finger inside you, already soaking wet with arousal, your clit throbbing as the water ran down your belly and his mouth sucked slowly at your tongue, his cock, thick and hard, pressed against your thigh.

“Let me make you come” he moaned as he slid a second finger inside you and his thumb stroked up across your clit, making you buckle. He locked your arms above your head with his free hand as his fingers continued to pulse inside you, stroking rhythmically, his eyes watching every emotion cross your face with awe and fascination, biting his lip hungrily as he saw the pleasure he was giving you, stroking you faster, watching your eyes widen and your breaths come shorter and faster. Your pupils grew dark as you slowly approached your peak, legs weakening. He freed your arms so you could wrap them around his neck and held you by the waist to support you as his fingers worked their magic harder and faster – his lips dropping kisses against yours as you tensed beneath him.

“You’re beautiful, I want to see you come.” He breathed. He didn’t need to ask, your whole body trembling as your orgasm grew, the knot in your stomach and the thrum of pleasure radiating from your clit building into a roar, his fingers coaxing waves of pleasure as they stroked inside you, his eyes boring into yours. You bit your lip and begged him for a kiss as you felt the familiar tug and as his lips crashed against yours you gave in, your body rippling with pleasure as you came hard against him, whimpering sighs into him, causing him to release a deep growl of arousal as he felt you clench around his hand.

He kissed you gently as you came down, holding you close, stroking your long wet hair down your back, kissing the side of your forehead. “Well that was the best way to wake up” he whispered into your ear. You kissed him back “I’d say”, you responded, “I could get used to that…”

You wanted to make love to him, feel him inside you again. You reached for another bottle on the caddy and squeezed a handful of shower gel into your palm before smoothing it over his body. He smiled tenderly as you slowly ran your soapy hands along the muscles of his arms, across his chest, exploring him, enjoying the feel of his muscles under your fingers, the wet skin slick, his mouth peppering you with kisses as you made soap bubbles under the water spray.

“I… want you inside me. I don’t know how…” You looked up at him, you didn’t have protection and wasn’t sure, halfway through the shower how it was going to work. He’d turned your back to him and was halfway through massaging a handful of soapy suds along your shoulders when he stopped, mouth making a soft “mmm hmm” as you heard him smile.

He was still hard as a rock, you could feel him pressing against you as his hands continued to roam and trail down your back, soap bubbles everywhere. Without a word he quickly washed the soap from his hands and kissed you, “don’t move” he said and quickly dashed out the shower, leaving a trail of wet puddles along the floor of the bathroom as you heard him ruffle through a cabinet against the opposite wall. He cursed a couple of times as he opened boxes and rifled through shelves until he finally found the condoms he was looking for. He quickly slipped one on and jogged back to the shower, sliding in and pulling you close, wrapping his huge arms around you as he cradled you, your back against his torso.

“We fit so perfectly” he nuzzled into your neck as he began to kiss you, you could feel the length of his erection slide against the soft curve of your bum, a wave of new pleasure building inside you. He slowly leaned you against the wall of the shower, pressing his body against yours, a hand delicately sliding up your thighs, your sides, stroking a breast, cupping it gently to tease the nipple as you placed your hands against the shower wall and gently spread your legs. He kissed every inch of your shoulders, your neck, the curve of skin behind your ear, between your shoulder blades, sweet hot kisses, soft and tender. He then slowly wrapped a hand around your neck just cupping below your chin, enough to tease you but not hurt you, fingers caressing the skin, tilting your head back to lick and suck at your earlobe and stroke you gently, teasing his erection against your hot, wet core between your legs, stroking against your clit with the head of his cock. Skin against skin, lips against lips he slowly guided himself inside you, holding you so close, rocking gently as the hot rain of the shower streamed over you. The feel of him filling you, slowly thrusting, his lips on your neck, fingers teasing, grazing at your nipples, his quiet moans, you were soon headed for a second orgasm and could feel it building in him too.

You turned your head to draw him into a kiss, his thrusts coming faster now, more desperate, one hand reached up pinning yours against the wall as his other pulled you tighter to him, driving into you as far as he could, his lips relentless, a bite in the soft muscle of your shoulder, your free hand reaching up behind to grip his hair, your whole body shaking on the brink of bliss. You felt him tense, the grip of his hand over yours clench hard, his body stiffen as with a final thrust he came, heat, pulsing, mirroring the throb inside you as you tightened around him, his breath in rapid, ragged pants.

“Amy, I…. holy shit….”, he cried out.

A final gasp, body softening, arms wrapping around you, turning your body to his, a reverent kiss, eyes closed. Breath long and slow and sweet.

Later, when you had both finally washed the soap, the shampoo, the evidence of your intimacy away he wrapped you in a gigantic white towel and clumsily attempted a turban for your hair. You brushed your teeth as he shaved, each stealing glances at the other in the mirror, awkward but elated at this early embarrassed domesticity.

It was only 7.30 am.

***

The coffee had brewed and you dressed quickly, grabbed a mug and had padded out to the back garden with a book you’d picked up from the extensive bookcase, sat under the awning, cradling Moose’s big soft body against your legs on the sofa. Already the New York city summer heat was beating strong through the trees onto the porch. Adam’s phone had started ringing almost as soon as you’d gotten out the bathroom and he was ‘mm-ing’ and ‘uh-huh-ing’ again to someone on the other end as he carried the coffee pot outside and a bag of muffins clutched in his free hand. He mouthed you an apology as he paced around the garden talking down the phone, drinking from a coffee cup that looked like a doll’s house toy in his huge hand. You had the feeling reality was about to come burst your hazy bubble with a bang.

Eventually the call ended and Adam tossed his cell onto the single sofa chair and came to sit beside you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re a wanted man.” you posed to him, glancing up from your book, squinting in the sunlight as he brushed a hand through his hair, looking slightly stressed.

“They announced Medea last night; it went to all the broadsheets and press. That was Hannah and Les, my publicist. Uh, there’s a few interviews and stuff coming up now that they’re scheduling so… that’s the media carousel starting.” He looked pensive. You reached out and stroked a lock of his hair.

“That’s good, isn’t it? The promotion?” You were determined to look at the positive side of this, I mean if anything he would be completely used to this and then some – and this was a Broadway play, not Star Wars which you could only imagine would have been ridiculously taxing. Broadway was popular, but still pretty niche.

“Oh, sure. I mean, it’s the job, you know. I don’t mind it at all, I’m aware I’m just incredibly privileged to get the chance to even do this – it’s just…” He grabbed a muffin from the bag and pretty much ate the whole thing in one bite, looking at you as if trying to speak but not able to because his cheeks were filled like a hamsters with muffin.

You giggled at him.

“Hungry, much?”

“I tfnwekjl;d you, *munch, munch*, I… mmmm, *munch, munch*, mm these are so ggdnosd, *swallow*”, he wiped his mouth quickly. “It’s…uh… there’s going to be a lot of scrutiny. The press. Events.”

“It’s what they do.”

“I know. And I don’t…” he let out a small grumpy moan, “I never talk about my private stuff.”

“I know you never do. I mean, I don’t read your interviews, I’ve seen pieces here and there, but I know you’re a private guy.”

“My privacy matters to me more than anything. Work is work, I will do anything for the work that’s fine… stupid fucking interviews about what cocktails I like, or what Kylo Ren would wear to prom, or whatever other weird shit people ask. I don’t mind, there’s a lot of good, you know, interesting writers out there. I love talking about theatre, that’s fine. I just…” - he heaved a deep sigh – “… it’s with you. I don’t want to expose you to that. And….” He trailed off. You knew what he wanted to articulate and was clearly hesitant about.

“Adam, I don’t want to be exposed and I have zero desire to be a distraction from you talking about your work, promoting this play. I… really don’t want to be the subject of any stories. I… this is all new, incredibly beautiful, but also, I’ll be honest, weird and slightly terrifying for me on some levels. I… we… I feel this isn’t some flash in the pan thing. But believe me, I need this to just be between us right now, circle of trust. As much as you do.”

He let out a deep breath of relief and pulled you into him, kissing you gently.

“You know it’s not because I’m embarrassed or, whatever, trying to hide you. This is absolutely not a flash in the pan, for me either. I just… don’t want the added pressure of all that.” He waved his hand dismissively, his furrowed brow silently bemoaning the inevitable occasional journalist who would veer off-topic and start asking about his private life. 

“I know that.” You kissed him on the cheek, climbing onto his lap. “You think I don’t know how the rumour mill works? I might not move in your world, but I know enough about how feral the press are, the fans.”

“I know, sorry. I wasn’t trying to suggest you didn’t. I just mean… I’m going to be pretty absent, busy, whatever. I don’t want to stop seeing you, but… it might get complicated. Funny hours… I haven’t dated in…. a VERY long time. Certainly not since this all blew up. I just, I want you to know if I am not as available, or we have to sneak around or whatever I am doing it to protect both of us. But, truth is, there’s going to inevitably be something that comes out. I can control as much as possible, Hannah is amazing at that, but I can’t promise…”

“Adam, I’m not made of cotton wool. I’m well aware of who you are, of your fame. We’ll do what we can do. If something comes out, then we’ll deal with that. You’re probably making this a bigger deal than it is. Also, and I know it REALLY isn’t the same thing, but with our theatre festival now confirmed with Perry Street, there’s gonna be publicity for that, for me too, so I guess somewhere down the line… ”

He looked you square in the eye, smiling, kissing you hard.

“I can’t wait to see your name on a playbill. The festival is really exciting, it’s going to be amazing. And yes, it’ll get attention. I just meant, there’s things we won’t be able to control… I just don’t want to jeopardise this.” He said simply.

His eyes betrayed deeper feelings than you’d even imagined, and your heart stirred.

“You won’t. I can handle myself. So can you. If something comes out, let them rumour mill all they want. I don’t give a shit. Do you?”

“Only because it fucking irritates the crap out of me. But no. If they ask, they won’t get.”

“Deal. Now give me a muffin. I have to scoot soon, I’m working at the centre today.”

“Yeah, I have to head to Industry City for table reads. Listen…”

“Yes.”

“I want to see you, as often as I can. I want to do normal shit with you. I work with a really good team, I trust all of them implicitly, so.. I’ll speak with Hannah, but I’ll find a way to make it work to see you without all the rigmarole.”

“I want to see you too. I’ll talk to Hannah. I was thinking this morning, I just, I wish we could just take a walk, with Moose. It sounds ridiculous, but in any other scenario I wouldn’t even think twice about it. But… I guess it isn’t that simple. But we can still hang out. I need my Moose fix, if nothing else” you grinned.

“We will, and we’ll get that walk one day. I… I really like being with you, Amy. I just want to get used to this, us, slowly.”

“I can wait. And I want the same. Our little secret. I mean, Rose knows. Jonathan knows. I wouldn’t ever talk about us anyway, but they are my close friends, they know but I trust them.”

“Oh sure, you learn super quick who you trust and who you don’t trust in this industry, I know who I can count on.”

Adam held you close, enjoying the moment quietly in the morning sun, just being close to you, Moose like a giant bear slobbering over both of you, he’d somehow manoeuvred his body to lie across both your knees. Adam reached down to scratch him behind his ears, his head resting against your shoulder.

“This dog, look at him. He’s my fucking HERO!” Adam laughed, suddenly relaxing again. Moose gave little happy yelps as Adam tickled his ears and under his chin.

“Actually…” Adam spoke again, you sat up straight looking into his eyes as he held you on his lap and fed you a piece of muffin.

“Yes….?” You mumbled as you chewed.

“I have… a dinner thing. Um, it’s been in my diary for a while. I can’t remember the date, Hannah will know, but it’s like, next weekend I think. It’s a couple of friends. It’s a small thing, not work, just a dinner at their house.”

“… and you’re telling me because…?”

“Would you want to come? With me?”

“To dinner? With your friends?”

“Yessss… I mean, no pressure. It’s… uh, I don’t know. Too soon? They… they’re in… it’s my ‘circle of trust’.”

You laughed watching him chew his lip getting more awkward as he spoke.

“I’d love to.”

“You would? Oh. Cool.”

“Of course I would. I’d, really like that.”

“It’s the one evening I know I asked Hannah to keep free because we’ve been trying to get a date together for ages, and always one of us is busy. So….”  
  


“If you’re comfortable bringing me.” You hesitated. _Was this too soon?_

“More than comfortable. You’ll like them. I… they keep me sane. It’ll be just a nice, normal thing.”

You kissed him then, completely besotted, clasping him to you and kissing his warm hair.

“Then I look very much forward to this nice normal thing. Who are they?”

“Oh. Well, it’s my friend Noah. He’s… he’s a director, and his wife. We’ve worked together, but we’ve been friends for… I don’t know, maybe ten years now?”

“Noah… you mean Noah Baumbach? Like, ‘Frances Ha’ Noah Baumbach…? Your old friend?”

“Yeah… that one. He, um. Yes.”

You burst out laughing, the insanity that was your life suddenly in that moment.

“It’s ok, I won’t freak out. Hahah, yes, I would love to have dinner with you, and Noah. And Greta, his wife. I, uh, I’m pretty familiar with who they are, their work. Come on, who hasn’t?!” you poked him playfully. He grinned.

“So you’ll be my dinner date?”

“I shall.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, bunching his hands behind your waist, your dress sliding up as you pressed into him on the sofa, hot sun beating on you, his lips tingling on yours, you felt yourself getting damp between your legs as his kisses got slower, deeper, his tongue playing an erotic dance with yours. He was getting hard and shifted uncomfortably as you gasped into his mouth.

The phone beeped at that exact moment, breaking you apart. Moose jumped off the sofa to sniff at the phone and poke it with his nose as the pair of you broke into soft giggles.

“I have to go. And YOU have a table read.” You said with a mock-stern voice, rearranging your dress and clambering off his lap. Adam threw his head back on the sofa in frustration before pulling you back for one quick swipe at your lips.

“For the road.” He stated.

You both got up and cleared away the coffee pots, patting back to the kitchen where you went to collect your bag. You kneeled to give Moose the biggest hug at the doorway, before turning to Adam who just cupped your face in his huge soft hands and pressed his lips to yours.

“I’ll call you later. I’ll get Hannah to give you a call too. I’ll miss you. I’ll try and see you before next weekend, if I can.” kisses peppering across your cheeks.

“I’ll miss you too. Good luck with the table read, and… whatever.

“Let me know how your meetings go for the theatre, I want to hear about it.”

“I will. I… I can’t wait to see you again.”

“If you don’t leave soon I’m going to drag you back to my bed.” He kissed you hard, as if to make the point.

“Ok, going. Gone. Walking out this door.” You pulled away from him, skipping out before the temptation meant you never left.

He chuckled. And you were gone.

Your head spun and your heart soared as you stepped from the cool of his brownstone into the clear, warm morning Brooklyn buzz. Your legs still sore from the sex, your lips still hot from his parting kiss. Your little secret, your private love, your hotter than hot date. You weren’t sure you could last a whole week.


	9. Banana Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which theatre shows are developed, we hang out with Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach, there is dancing and bourbon and Twitter meltdowns and hot tuxedos.  
> ***  
> I don't own Adam, know him or have anything to do with him. I also sadly have nothing to do with Greta or Noah. Locations mentioned, however, are all real, as is the name of Adam's groomer Amy.  
> ***  
> This is a LONG AS HELL chapter, lots going on and lots of development. It's all romance my friends, soft Adam to the fore (don't worry the smut will return, with a vengeance!)  
> ***  
> Some picture inspo for this chapter:  
> ADAM in his suit for the photoshoot: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738332506/  
> *  
> ADAM in his denim shirt for dinner: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738331956/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me SO LONG to write, I'm so sorry! It is a herculean chapter and it is so hard to write people you know as celebrities, but trying to make them sound like people you actually know like friends - I also don't want to write them badly! I HOPE you love this chapter though, it is light on the smut and all about the fluff as these two lovebirds slowly skirt around this thing that is growing and Amy's career is taking a bit of a rise... Also I don't have a beta nor am I hot on formatting so apologies for weird typos that I have missed or funny bullet points! Your feedback and comments are EVERYTHING to me, thank you thank you to ALL of you who took the time to write, leave kudos etc. I really value your input and responses etc. Take care, stay safe, I'll crack on asap with the inevitably sweet and racy chapter that is obviously going to follow... ;)

**Chapter 9**

**Later, but not much later, that same Tuesday morning...**

The coffee shop was crowded and buzzing when you ran in, looking pretty flustered and very obviously wearing yesterday’s dress as the linen was all crumpled and your hair was a half-dried mess. You’d gone straight from Adam’s apartment to meet Jonathan for a planning meeting at your favourite coffee hangout, Café Grumpy in Park Slope. You were twenty minutes late.

He’d already ordered you a flat white and was eyeballing you with a cheeky smirk on his face as you stumbled in, tripping slightly on the front step and nearly walking into one of the baristas. You felt like a walking disaster. 

“Well… _someone_ looks all hot and bothered…” Jonathan winked as you sat down.

You swatted his shoulder with your purse and stared him down with your eyes, before smirking back. A blush like a 2000-watt tomato spread across your face. You screwed your eyes shut and simply let out an embarrassed groan.

“Say no more, lady. I can see it ALL OVER your face.” Jonathan grinned at you and laughed. “Someone’s been getting some LOVIN’!” - he sang, adding jazz hands, as if he hadn’t made his point enough already.

“Oh my god, don’t be such a giant child!” you cringed, then hid your face behind your hands. “It’s really obvious isn’t it? I didn’t have time to go home… Say. Nothing.” You faux-glared at him as you fumbled about your bag for your ipad.

“My lips are sealed… but oh my goodness, you HAVE to give me something. Just tell me he’s as wonderful and dreamy as I want him to be and...”

“Business first.” You cut him off, laughing. “You’re getting no gossip from me. Except to say… look at my face. And yes, he is… absolutely fucking wonderful. And that’s your lot. Now… schedule!”

Jonathan merely giggled at you and shook his head, you were completely smitten and it couldn’t have been more obvious if it was stamped on your head with a giant marker. 

Two hours later you’d hashed out a casting schedule and rough rehearsal plan to present to the production agency and blocked out a ton of dates to start putting the show together. You were both buzzing with insane energy at the idea of this taking off. 

Just as you were wrapping up, Jonathan was scrolling through his Twitter feed when he suddenly grabbed your hand. 

“Oh, holy shit.” He exclaimed, realising then how loud he was and dropping to a whisper. “AMY! You didn’t tell me he was doing Broadway!!!”

You shushed him down even more.

“ _What?_ ”   
  


“Adam! He’s going to be in Medea at the Ambassador Theatre?? Holy shit that is so cool!”

“Where are you reading that?” you shot back, a lump of panic rising in your throat that you tried to swallow down.

“Are you kidding? It’s trending on Twitter. It’s on Broadwayworld.com, Playbill, Variety, WhatsUpNewYork… Man I’d LOVE to see him on stage. Amy!!! So he’s like, in New York full time right now, huh?”

You grabbed the phone from his hand, you didn’t have Twitter. You scrolled through and it was like an explosion of hashtags and article clippings, a headshot of Adam in a dark navy suit at some awards event being used repeatedly to plug the announcement. There were also some pretty insane comments and retweets… a lot of what sounded like hormonal teenage girls sharing gifs of eye-rolling cats and all sorts of strange stuff.

“Uh, yeah… um… it was embargoed so I couldn’t really say, and it’s not my place…” you mumbled. This was all very real suddenly. The man who four hours ago was giving you orgasms in his shower and feeding you muffins was suddenly a trending topic on Twitter, a glossy headshot, a news item. You couldn’t even compute the scenario.

Jonathan picked up on your vibe straight away. He took his phone back and quickly put it away, then took your hand.

“Hey, Ames. You ok? I…. it’s just Twitter. I mean… you know this is his life, right?”

“Yes, of course I do. Idiot” You spat that last word out and immediately regretted it. “Sorry, that was stupid of me.”

“It’s fine. Hey, Amy… come on… you and I ALWAYS read Playbill, all our friends and contacts are actors, this is no different. The difference is he gets a bigger paycheck, more press, more visibility. But guess what? It’s all the same shit.”

“It’s not the same and you know it.” you sighed, resigned to that fact. “I just… it’s the way it blows up. It’s the idea that there’s these two lives and I can’t register them as being the same life - I look at that Twitter feed and I don’t see the person whose house I just left. I feel completely detached.”

“But he IS the person whose house you just left. This” - he waved the phone at you - “this is not Adam. This is Twitter. 10% regurgitated press releases and news websites and 90% batshit crazy people airing their every fucking thought and opinion. This is like a condensed version of any famous person’s life, but it isn’t their real, authentic life. It’s other people’s projections. You know that like I know that.”

You sat back, hunching your shoulders. Jonathan was right of course, but it didn’t make it any less weird that people were literally posting all sorts of random shit all over Twitter and Adam’s face was going to be everywhere, commented on, his every move studied, torn apart. Urgh.

“You’re right.” You acknowledged.

“It’s exciting. For him, for you. All you need to worry about is enjoying time with him, and all he is worrying about, I am sure, is that the play is a success. You can bet he’s not giving two hoots about this shit.”

“Oh, he doesn’t even know what Twitter is, he’s totally anti all this bullshit.”

“See? If he doesn’t care, you really shouldn’t. You’re not into all this anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, unless I hear it from you, or read it in the Times, I pretty much have no clue what’s going on” you snorted. 

“And you know the best bit?” Jonathan said, wiggling an eyebrow at you as he squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“What’s that?”

“In about a month, it’s going to be our play being talked about on Twitter. We’ll be in Playbill and WhatsupNewYork and Adam.. well, girl, he’ll just be old news.” Jonathan grinned at you and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

“See weirdly _that part_ just excites me, I really want this project to be a success! Although if people start posting horny cat memes in response to our show, I’ll really freak out.”

“Girl, if anyone cares enough to take the time to make stupid cat memes about our show, we’ll KNOW it’s a success.” 

You both laughed out loud. 

Thank god for your friends for grounding you, he made you feel better immediately.

“Just make sure I get a ticket to Medea on opening night.” He added, suddenly pouting at you.

“Ha, I’ll… uh, it’s in November… let’s just you know… see where this all goes.”

Jonathan merely rolled his eyes at you, and laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. Front row please”.

You both left the cafe, spirits much lifted and eager to get working on your show. As for you, you just hung on to the small fluttering voice inside repeating _“You’re going to be fine. This is all fine.”_

***

Your next two days were crammed, between theatre planning, tutor classes and shifts at the pound - you were running around like crazy.

You’d not heard from Adam except for evening goodnight messages which you’d responded to, but knew with first week of table reads he was likely totally lost in his head. Between that and, you imagined, a growing line up of interviews - you were studiously avoiding the internet as much as you could.

You did need to call Hannah though and find out about dinner. You’d been putting it off, but realised you actually needed to plan around it, so eventually gave her a call on Thursday afternoon.

“Hannah, it’s Amy”

“Oh, hey! Great minds, I was literally about to call you! It’s been crazy busy.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, um… Is this about Noah’s? Yeah, figures Adam didn’t even remember what day it was. I swear to god, he is ridiculously disciplined with timing and schedules, but if you don’t tell him what day of the week something is... “ you both laughed.

“Yeah, I just need to know what day, I’ve got a pretty packed schedule.”

“Sure, so it’s Sunday, 7pm. Adam’s at a shoot that afternoon, maybe you can meet us there and get the car together?”

“Er… meet him, you, what at the shoot?”

“Yeah, it’s not far, it’s at the St Regis Hotel. Midtown.”

“Er… ok. Do I just…”

“It’s fine, just come along about 6pm, they should be wrapping up by then. I’ll be there, would be great to meet, just buzz me and I’ll meet you at reception with a pass. Don’t worry, it’s literally just the photographer, no press.”

“Oh… er, ok. If I’m free I’ll come along.”

“Yeah we’ve got about two more weeks of press junkets and stuff between rehearsals and this should all die down a bit. Oh, hay hang on. Adam’s waving at me, hold on -”

You heard some muffled noises, like Hannah was covering the phone and yelling…

“Amy? Hang on, Adam’s coming over, he just wants to talk to you for a second…”  
  


“Oh, sure!”

You waited a moment, then heard his familiar deep voice on the other end.

“Hey you…” he spoke softly like he didn’t want everyone to hear “hold on, I’m just going to another room for a second.”

“Ok…”

“Hi.” You could hear his smile on the phone.

“Hi, how are you ‘busy boy’?”

“It’s good to hear your voice. Yeah, it’s pretty busy, I’m good though. I’m on a photoshoot - the photographer just went for coffee so I have a few minutes... I miss you.”  
  


“I miss you too.” your heart skipped a beat, every time, “What’s the shoot?”  
  


“Uh, it’s GQ. We’re at the Mercer. How’s the show going? I guess you’re pretty busy too, right?”

“GQ? How glamorous! Um, yeah - Jon and I have mapped out more or less what we want, we’re presenting to Guy tomorrow at the agency.”

“Cool! Are you nervous?” his tone was eager, excited for you.

“No, not for now anyway, probably tomorrow I will be.”

“You’ll be great. I want to hear how it goes.”

“Thank you…” your heart swelled, “Anyway, Noah’s on Saturday, I’m going to meet you first at the Regis, I think, so we can go together.”

“Oh, cool, ok! I can’t wait. Really. I keep thinking about you…” he paused, “I, uh, might be a bit exhausted, so I’m apologising in advance. Rehearsals are full-on already and it’s back to back with other stuff as well, but I really want to see you and my friends - It’ll be good to, uh, you know. Decompress, or whatever.”

“It’s ok, I can’t even imagine. I... “ you laughed gently, “What’s the shoot? I just… don’t laugh, I just want to picture you right now.”

“Oh, uh. Well, I had to sit in a bathtub for, like, two hours, in a vest. So that was interesting… And… now I’m in a VERY expensive shirt and pants, I think it’s… I don’t know, let me look at the label, uh Louis Vuitton? Anyway, it’s very expensive and then they just threw paint all over me. I guess… It’s uh, yeah, so now I’m getting back in the bathtub… with all the paint.”

You were silent for a moment, then burst out laughing, a big hearty laugh. Eventually you heard him giggle back.

“Well… Um, you just really blew apart the myth of the glamour right there!” you joked.

“Ha, well. I mean, the shoot looks like it’ll look pretty er, cool when it comes out, but yeah… it’s mostly a very well coordinated chaos in the making. I’m just glad I don’t have to clean the bathroom after. Also Moose got paint on his paws and walked everywhere… so, they are not big fans of me right now.”

“You brought Moose with you?” You chuckled, you could literally picture Moose being a total rebel and disrupting everything with his big wobbling body.

“Yeah, I asked Hannah to bring him over so I can walk him straight after. If they let me bring him to shoots and stuff, I’II always bring him along.”

“That makes me happy, I love that. You should totally get him covered in paint and in the bathtub too.”

“Ha, they’d probably love that. He’s better looking than I am, he should be wearing this shirt.”

You snorted, “Shut up! Haha, although he would totally look like a Don if you got him in a little dog tux.”

“Don’t give me dangerous ideas.”

“Oh, but it’s fun.”

“Mmm-hmm...I have dangerous ideas I want to give you.”  
  


“Oh yeah?”

He whispered, “Maybe... I miss you. My bed still smells of you…”

You blushed a deep and furious red as his voice got deeper. 

“Adam, I…” You were about to respond when you heard a holler in the background and a ruffled sound on the phone, then Adam talking away from the speaker.

“Oh, we’re back…? Ok, hang on, uh…” he cleared his throat, “Amy, I have to go, we’re back shooting.”

“Oh, go, go… enjoy the paint! I…”

“Sorry. Um, I miss you, I’ll message later.”

“K, bye.”  
  


“Bye”

With that he hung up. 

You realised you had originally been talking to Hannah and that was her phone he’d hung up and he’d clearly forgotten as well. You took a moment to regain your composure and simply texted Hannah a brief note,

_I’ll be at the St Regis for 6pm Saturday, thanks for letting me know! Amy x_

_Sure thing! H x_

Couldn’t come fast enough.

***

The meeting with Guy went well, he was impressed with your preparation and talked Jonathan and you through the funding process and coordinated dates with you to start the ball rolling. Your next stage was to meet with the other theatre groups who would be performing short plays as part of your evening selection and organising readings with them, which Perry Street would coordinate, but needed you to take part in. It was all feeling very real. You were also introduced to Kelly, Perry Street’s publicist and press officer who would be in charge with promotion of the festival in due course. 

She took you and Jonathan for coffee and talked you through the nuts and bolts of the promotional schedule and how it would normally work which really demystified a lot of the process for you. You’d done a few workshops on promotion and the Business of Marketing at The Actor’s Studio but had never had to actually apply it to your real life since you stepped away from auditions, this felt full circle. You were buzzing.

When Sunday rolled around you couldn’t even grasp where the time had gone, as your hours were suddenly full from morning ‘til night. 

***

**Sunday 5pm.**

*texting*

  * Rose, how do I look? {picture}
  * {stunned emoji} - You look hot. Knock him dead!
  * I’m nervous.
  * Chill, it’s fine. You’re fine! Dining with the stars ;)
  * Oh god! Don’t haha, Greta Gerwig. Man, I want to pick her brains about writing. She is an amazing writer. This is surreal.
  * And you get to! Isn’t that awesome?!
  * AAAARGH!!!!!
  * Oh and, hey, when can we hang out again? I haven’t seen you properly for ages, apart from work and work isn’t fun hang outs.
  * I know. I’m super sorry, this theatre thing is nuts. 
  * I can’t even blame not seeing you on your new boyfriend, sounds like he’s insane busy.
  * He’s not my boyfriend.
  * OH WHATEVER. Anyway, you’re so busy, and it’s awesome, but girls night please? Soon? 
  * Yes. I miss those too! I promise, next week. Just me and you. And lots of vino.
  * Good. I’m holding you to that. Now go and be fabulous. 
  * Signing off. Fabulousness on the move!
  * X
  * Xoxo



***

**Sunday 6pm**

You got out the subway at 5th and 53rd straight into early evening sticky heat. The summer was punishing as it rolled into July. Not knowing what to wear you’d gone for casual - it was a chill dinner with friends so you wore what you would wear if it was your own dinner party. A pair of vintage jeans, a simple black halter neck with a ribbon tie behind the neck, a pair of red ballet flats, hair up in your trademark messy bun tied up in a silk japanese scarf. 

_Deep breaths, Amy. Like you hang out on photoshoots ALL the time. Chanel your inner “Devil Wears Prada. You’re wearing flats, but think stilettos…_ Your inner monologue even took on a power bitch voice, as if that would make you less nervous.

You got to the Regis hotel, the sort of 5* luxury you only ever saw in magazines and movies, and made your way to the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m… er, meeting Hannah, from Eden? It’s Amy”

“Oh, yes. The photoshoot. Er… Amy Myers? One moment please.” The receptionist dialled a number as you fiddled with the corner of a brochure on the counter.

“Yes, Miss Myers. She’s just on her way down.”

A few minutes passed then,

“AMY? HIIII!” A booming voice came from the direction of the elevators, then a big smile attached to a small, incredibly bubbly woman with big hair appeared before you and pulled you into a hug, completely taking you off guard.

“Oh! Hannah, erm hi! Nice to meet you!” You hugged her back, immediately finding her warmth infectious. 

“You too! Oh, look at you, you’re adorable!” She held you at arms length and took you in, beaming a megawatt smile. “Come, come, they’re almost done. It’s so good to meet you in person! Can I get you anything, want me to radio for a drink or some snacks or something? We had some subs and smoothies upstairs, but I think they’re all gone now.” She was talking at a hundred miles an hour, a bluetooth speaker in her ear flashing as she walked briskly to the elevators and pressed the call bell.

“Oh, erm I’m ok. Thanks, I’ll just grab some water…” You were still flustered, but immediately like Hannah. She was loud, brash, totally informal, looked like a lot of fun, she was like everyone’s best friend’s cool mom. You also sensed within minutes she wouldn’t take any shit or be phased by anything. Which filled you with calm. 

You got into the lift, Hannah talking you through the shoot. 

“It’s just headshots and portrait shots, really straightforward, for his agency profile and stuff, we haven’t had new ones done in a while and with the show coming out we wanted some fresh press shots.”

“Is, um… do people know who I am? Showing up like this?”

“Oh, not really. I do, um, Leslie, his publicist, you’ll meet her. Amy K, she does his make-up and grooming. But no, not really. DOn’t worry, no one cares, and I mean it in the nicest way. This is all his team, we’re all in the industry… it’s, don’t even worry.”

You smiled at her, looking relieved.

“Cool, thanks. I’m not even worried, I think it’s just more knowing what I’m walking into, I guess. Again, this is all a bit new to me.”

“Don’t even worry. Oh, and I heard your show news, you’re working on a festival thing for off-Broadway?”

“Yeah, um, a four week run of play adaptations, we - er, my friends and I - we got some grant money. I’m really excited.”

“You know, you’re gonna need headshots too…”

“Oh, I… um, yeah I hadn’t really thought that far ahead… I have a headshot portfolio, from Julliard days, when I was auditioning...”

“Just saying” she winked at you, “if you wanted to get new ones, I can pull some strings.”

You looked embarrassed. 

“Oh, I can organise… thanks, I just…”

Hannah nudged you in the sides, “Don’t worry. You don’t strike me as someone who’d ever try and pull strings or take advantage of anyone. I like that. Adam said you were strong, a go-getter.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, I think our boy’s pretty whipped.” She nudged you in the shoulder. “Just between you and I… you know.” She winked. 

You smiled down at the floor.

“But you know, we’re all in the same business. You ever want contacts, just ask. It’s how we all got here!”

You acknowledged she was right, no one made it anywhere in the entertainment industry without a massive network. 

The elevator arrived and the doors pinged open on the 25th floor, the penthouse. You immediately stepped into a corridor full of equipment. A trolley of refreshments, photography equipment bags, a clothes rail with half a dozen suits and shirts on it, there was a security guy, a couple of people on phones sitting on folding chairs talking away as you walked down the hallway to a set of open double doors leading into an enormous suite. You could hear the constant click of a camera shutter going off and a voice talking loudly, a general bustle of people. 

As you stepped inside, Hannah guiding you in, you immediately locked eyes with Adam, for a moment your breath stalling. 

There were two studio lighting tripods set up and the photographer, his back to you, was looking down through the lens of a big SLR set up. The spot lamps shone a dry, acidulated light on the wall of the suite in front of you and there, stood tall and straight in the middle of the two orbs of light, Adam. He was wearing a tailored black suit and white shirt, open at the collar, cut perfectly for his broad frame. Impossibly tall, his hair framed his angular face in soft waves, a hint of black stubble on his upper lip, his mouth in a perfect relaxed pout. He was turned slightly away, but eyes directly on the camera, intense, serious. He had one hand in his pocket and the other by his side, silver Breitling chronograph watch, _of course_ , on his wrist.The moment you walked in he had glanced up, almost imperceptibly but enough to hook you in with his gaze, make you almost stumble. Then he immediately snapped back to the photographer. 

Adam moved his body slightly, shifting with every shutter click, completely professional, a hand through his hair, adjusting his wrist, giving the photographer whatever he needed in that moment. You were mesmerised, as if the two Adams you knew had suddenly collided in the room. This was Hollywood Actor Adam, except now you were sharing the same space and you know what lay behind that serious face, those burning brown eyes.

“That’s it Adam, can you just turn a bit more, yeah just to the right. That’s perfect -”

*click, click, click*

“Yep, hang on, I’m gonna just adjust the light one sec.”

The photographer stood up and went over to sort something out with one of the tripods and Hannah ushered you further into the room. Adam immediately broke his ram rod stance and his shoulders relaxed, he immediately looked for your eyes again and when he caught them he smiled - the purest, warmest smile, mouthing a silent “hi!”.

You smiled back at him, your heart full. 

Hannah immediately started making introductions as the photographer picked up again, barking out instructions and directing Adam about.

“Amy, this is Amy”, you faced a tall, very glamorous woman in her forties. Short bleach blond hair and perfect skin. She stuck her hand out,

“Hi! Great name” she quipped with a genuine smile, “I’m Amy K, they call me AK. I do Adam’s make-up and grooming.”  
  


“Oh, hi… um, Amy. Just Amy! Nice to meet you. Are you…” you hesitated, feeling ridiculous, then thought what the hell, “Are you responsible for his hair?”

AK laughed, “yeah, I have that honour. Honestly I barely need to do anything with it, he has the best fucking hair, I’m so jealous.”

You laughed with her. “Oh god, I know right?” you joked back, shrugging your shoulders in mock-disbelief. “It’s like, he just steps out the shower and it just dries immediately perfectly. I have to wrestle two hours with hair masks and straighteners to be even remotely publicly presentable.” 

Your admission at knowing what his hair looked like coming out the shower hit you in the gut, and your eyes widened. _Jesus, Amy, you moron._ No one batted an eyelid. You really were worrying about nothing.

Over in a corner, a girl in a denim jumpsuit and huge, super cool afro was talking animatedly down a phone and gave you a wave when she spotted you with Hannah. As you got closer, she covered the phone mouthpiece for a second and nodded at you.

“Amy? Hi, Leslie, sorry - the phone is off the hook. Nice to meet you!” she whispered. 

You felt like you were being presented at a debutante ball, with so much bustle going on. 

The camera continued to shutter behind you and as you said hello to “the team” you occasionally glanced back to simply admire Adam in that suit. Those long legs, the buttons of the white shirt just starting to strain at the chest, the intensity of his gaze wreaking havoc on your hormones, the thought of his skin under that shirt, the thought of sneaking him off to a laundry closet, wearing that tux and just… fucking him...

_AMY!_

You snapped your eyes shut for a second and drove the thought away before you bombed like a nuclear torpedo into the floor. 

Hannah was talking, offering you water, donuts, pointing out all the people in the room. You were grateful she was so animated she hadn’t noticed your flustered daydreaming face. 

Eventually a sharp click and the holler,

“Right, that’s a wrap folks, thanks Adam. Got what we need.”

“Yeah, ok. Cool, thanks Stephen.” 

You snapped out of your reverie, clutching the water bottle Hannah had given you as Adam took off the jacket of the tuxedo and cricked his neck before bounding over to you. Like a transformed man he was suddenly regular Adam the moment the tuxedo jacket was off, his posture relaxed again. Hannah purposefully made herself scarce, disappearing to talk to Leslie and the rest of the team as Adam drew close.

“Hi, he beamed down at you, drinking you in. He was dangerously close, you could smell the faintest trace of cologne, a vague scent of hair wax or some kind of lemony product, you looked up to meet his eyes, your lips level with the soft dip of his clavicle, peppered with freckles. His hand grazed the skin of your arm so delicately the hairs on your arms rose to meet his fingertips as he leant down and placed a chaste flutter of a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hello”, you said, your voice barely audible.

“You look good enough to eat” he whispered, lips brushing your ear and his fingers curling around your arm to give you a brief squeeze. 

“I won’t lie, I’m having very imaginative thoughts about you in this tux.” you whispered back, tugging gently at the cotton of the shirt where it tucked into the trousers. 

“Oh yeah?” He pulled back and just looked down at you, like the rest of the room had melted away. He took a sip from the water bottle from your hands, not leaving your eyes.

“If you don’t change out of it very soon, I might have to ask Hannah if we can book the suite next door and…”

“Adam, phone!”

Hannah broke you both out of your moment and came marching over, phone in hand. 

He squeezed your arm one more time and mouthed “see you in a bit” quickly as he took the cell from Hannah’s hand.

Suddenly the noise and bustle of the room came flooding back into focus and Adam was all business. Which was a good thing as you felt the familiar tug return between your thighs, your heart racing. It was 6.30 pm, you needed to get moving. You scratched your head and busied yourself with your purse trying to look unselfconscious and achieving everything but.

Adam talked away on the phone, stripping his shirt off as he spoke and motioning to Hannah to grab his bag which was on the floor across the room, presumably with a change of clothes. He stripped right down to his briefs - you tried to look everywhere but at him, even though no one else paid the blindest bit of attention, you were still way too aroused to look, then he disappeared into what you assumed was the bathroom.

Thankfully, just at that moment, AK came over, and, you realised, had Moose with her on a little leash - he must have been in the other room whilst the shoot was taking place. As soon as Moose saw you his tail began wagging furiously and he pawed your leg with total joy. 

“He must have known you were here, he just started going crazy next door!” AK said, handing you the leash. 

“Oh, I’ve missed this pooch so much! Hi Moose!” You gave him a huge hug as his tail continued wagging like mad.

“He’s got a total fan club here, but he can be a little rogue sometimes.” AK said and you laughed with her

“Were you at the GQ shoot, with the paint?” you asked.

“Oh god, did Adam tell you? It was hilarious. I mean, hilarious for us, kinda not for the hotel… but seriously. He had blue paint all over his feet and his tail and rolled everywhere.”

You looked closely and realised Moose still had little scraps of blue fleck pain on his paws and couldn’t help but chuckle at the whole idea. Finally the veil of nerves disappeared, you stood back up, continuing to stroke Moose behind the ears as AK asked you about your show and how you’d met Adam, you chit chatted away as she started packing up her kit on a small table behind you - it all just suddenly seemed normal to you and the weight you’d carried most of the week disappeared.

Ten minutes later Adam was back, now in a pale denim shirt, navy sweater, black jeans and his Nikes. His face had lost some of the sheen of the camera make-up he’d had on and his hair was a bit more ruffled. He didn’t look any less delicious. Moose almost jumped at him as he got close and Adam scooped to pick him up and nuzzle him, “Are you behaving, you big beast?” he rubbed noses with Moose who looked in seventh heaven.

“Have you met everyone?” He asked you, barely able to conceal his smile just at the sight of you, which didn’t go unnoticed by AK.

“We’ve been chatting about her show,” AK jumped in, “it sounds awesome.” You blushed.

“Yeah, it’s going to be so cool.” He beamed at you. You reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, wanting to kiss him senseless but not in front of the crowd. 

“We need to go” you reminded him, and at AK “It was really nice to meet you. And… everyone!”

“Oh shoot” he glanced down at the watch he still had on, “yeah, I’ll call Noah from the car. AK, thank you as always.” He put Moose down and gave her a quick hug. “Can you let Hannah and Les know we’re off, I think they’re in the other room.” 

“Sure. Amy, really nice meeting you, I’m sure we’ll see you around.” She grinned at you knowingly and gave you a brief kiss on the cheek. “Have fun, kids!”

“Bye Stephen!” Adam hollered at the photographer who nodded back as he continued packing away. Then he picked his backpack from the floor, put it on, grabbed Moose’s leash and finally wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he waved across the room and the pair of you left.

As soon as you were in the elevator, Adam pulled you close and placed a soft kiss to your temple, breathing in the smell of your hair before you lifted your face and sought out his mouth. He almost sighed out loud when his lips met yours, his arm sliding down from your shoulders to curl around your waist, the hand holding Moose’s leash meeting your other hip and grazing at the skin under your halter top. Your whole body shook with the smallest tremor as you leaned into his body, everything overwhelming you, his tongue teasing your lips apart to taste you, teeth grazing at your bottom lip, warm fingers lightly stroking the bare skin of your belly, his thigh between yours, an ache building between your legs, making you wet as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator.

“Jesus, I wanted this.” He breathed, between kisses, pulling you flush, your fingers curling tight in his hair and tugging gently, knowing it would make him moan. 

You slowly traced the edge of his lips with your tongue, sliding one hand up and under his shirt, trailing your fingers across the skin of his chest, warm and soft, reaching round, feeling the breadth of his back, the splay of muscles, hearing him groan as you dragged your nails softly down his spine. He let out a small rumble, body visibly reacting to your touch.

“I need to see you in a tux more often.” You said softly, breaking your kiss to look at him. 

“Well, thankfully, in my line of work…” He barely finished his sentence before hungrily leaning in to kiss you further when *DING*, the elevator arrived at the basement floor and you quickly pulled apart. Moose provided a welcome distraction for you to both focus on as you walked out.

A security guard met you by a service entrance and ushered you both out to a loading bay where the familiar black sedan was waiting. No sooner were you settled in the car than Adam leaned over in the seat to kiss you again. 

You were off to dinner.

***

By the time the car pulled up at an elegant brownstone in downtown Brooklyn you’d updated Adam on your meetings with the theatre team, in between heated kisses and Moose - visibly missing the attention - jumping onto your lap. Your eagerness to talk to each other and catch up on all your news was only matched by how much you’d clearly been left ragged by your last date, both hungry for each other. Although you were excited about dinner, you couldn’t ignore the current of electricity between you, like a sonic heat, at all times just simmering below the surface, just from being in each other’s orbits.

Of course Noah and Greta’s apartment was just another ridiculously vast and beautiful space, the entrance framed by tall elms and wrought iron handrails painted a pale lemon. Just before ringing the bell, Adam took your hand in his and leaned down to kiss you sweetly, cupping your cheek with his other hand. 

“I’m glad you wanted to come.” He said softly, before you kissed him back, letting him know with the eagerness of your lips just how happy you were in that moment. 

He rang the bell, not letting go of your hand.

The door opened with a cacophony of noise and loud greetings, as a beaming Greta immediately squeaked “Adam! Amy!” as the light spilled onto the street. It struck you that it felt like greeting old friends since you were already so familiar with the faces of the two people standing in their doorway, looking every bit like you expected and yet completely different in the flesh. Noah Baumbach, director of some of your favourite films and his wife, Greta Gerwig whom you adored as an actress and writer. Here they were, he in a casual shirt and chinos, she in a floral shirt dress and espadrilles, the ultimate boho Brooklyn creative arts power couple, looking like two old college buddies. 

They both immediately pulled you into a hug as you exchanged welcomes in their hallway, Moose immediately scampering off down the hallway. Adam looked quietly studious as he introduced you, in contrast to Greta who was squealing happily and pulling him into a bear hug and… _was he blushing? Yes he was!_

The pair were so welcoming and friendly you immediately relaxed, Greta taking your arm as she walked you down the hall into a huge living and dining room which opened onto a decked garden and Adam and Noah hung back, catching up on news. 

_Another insane house_ , you thought, as you gazed with envy at the bookcases crammed with heavy tomes on cinematography, old classics and photography books, artworks and jumbles of retro and antique vases, bottles and plant pots dotted across the space, an old cinema projector in one corner.

“The girls are making cocktails!” Greta hollered back as she pulled you into a kitchen space just off the dining area. As soon as you were in there she grabbed a set of glasses from a cupboard and turned to you with a conspiratorial grin. 

“So! It’s so cool to meet you, Adam didn’t reveal much but we knew there was a mystery lady on the scene and we were really hoping you’d come when we invited him for dinner! I’m so happy for him!!” 

You blushed, unable to stop a smile spreading across your face.

“Here I am!” you laughed, doing a mock curtsey. “I have to get this out now, because otherwise I won’t relax, but - this is super corny - I am SUCH a huge admirer of your work. This is a little surreal for me, standing in your kitchen!”

“Oh, thank you so much! Ha, we’re surprisingly ordinary, unfortunately, two sad workaholic nightmares” she giggled, “Adam said you’re an actress? Didn’t you go to Julliard?”

  
“I did! Yeah, I’d kinda given up on acting, to be honest, and now I’m studying, I went back to university because the acting gigs were drying up and I want to teach theatre, but… turns out I’m now putting on a theatre festival!”

“Oh that’s so cool, tell me more! And help me make these…” Greta dashed about the kitchen grabbing bottles and ice cubes and setting up a cocktail prep as you talked her through your show and she made you laugh and it felt like you’d known each other for ages. 

Between you you knocked up a tray of Old Fashioneds and as you were about to head out, Adam popped his head round the door, 

“Can I help with anything?” he said, immediately grabbing a cocktail from the tray as Greta lifted it.

“Nope, but you can grab the guac from the fridge and the tortillas from the counter. Also, where did you find this gorgeous girl? I love her.” Greta winked at him, and he immediately looked embarrassed, before shooting you a small smile. 

“Uh… well, um, it was when I went to adopt Moose…” Adam looked at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No…!” she turned to you, eyes wide.

“Yep. I - uh - work part time at Brooklyn Dog rescue… and uh, in walks this guy...I guess it was Moose who brought us together?” You couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd it sounded.

“You are kidding? That’s hilarious. That’s a movie meeting.”

“The irony is not lost on me…” You retorted, laughing. 

“Ok, we’re taking these drinks outside and I want the whole lowdown. Adam, grab the bourbon, we’re gonna need it.” and she marched off in the direction of the patio, leaving the pair of you chuckling in the kitchen.

You looked at Adam, still visibly awkward at Greta’s girlish enthusiasm at your meet-cute story, but smiling softly. He wandered over to you, reaching for the bottle of bourbon on the counter behind you, leaning into you gently, his eyes searching yours quietly. 

“I like her.” You grinned at Adam, reaching out to place your hand on his chest. He reached up and grabbed it, kissing the knuckles, grazing your fingertips with his lips.

“I like _you_.” He said softly, wrapping your arm around his waist and pressing a gentle kiss on your lips, already a sweet tang of bourbon on his tongue as he slowly deepened the kiss and began to tease you, suckling at your bottom lip, pressing his hips into your belly, abandoning the bottle of bourbon to run his hand up your back and wind his long fingers into your hair, letting out a soft moan as you stroked the soft downy skin at the base of his back, skimming the edge of his jeans .

“We did not come here to make out like two anti-social teenagers at a party” you whispered, breaking off the kiss. Adam chuckled, kissing you once, twice more, before you pulled apart, already your breathing getting shallower. He ran his hand through his hair, tucking a lock behind his ear. 

“We did not,” he said quietly, “But I’ll be thinking about doing that all evening.”

“Good. Me too. And more…” You poked him, finally grabbing the snacks and bourbon and joining Greta and Noah outside.

The evening was blissful, you chatted - movies, theatre, books, Moose, exchanging tips on favourite places to eat, delis, the usual conversation - but it flowed easily as the sun set over the patio and the low glow of the garden lights came on, the bourbon flowing. You felt Adam relaxing, his shoulders visibly softening as the evening went on and the drinks kept coming. Even as he was engrossed in conversation, or listening intently as he was always wont to do, you’d catch him glancing at you, his eyes meeting yours across the deck, making your cheeks heat with secret smiles. 

As it got cooler you eventually moved indoors to the dining table, Noah put on a jazz record on an old turntable and Greta brought out the most amazing looking array of food, an eggplant parmigiana, salads, roasted veggies. You popped open a bottle of red and Adam lit the dinner table candles, the pair of you moving around each other in a comfortable silence, before sitting down side by side opposite your new friends. Your obvious need to be close to each other did not go unnoticed; your little excuses for touching: Adam’s hand reaching out to stroke your arm, you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder as he listened to Noah talking, his hand on your knee under the table as you spoke, his foot brushing yours. His eyes fixed on you with quiet admiration as you talked about your work, your funny stories of awful auditions. A million silent words exchanged. 

As the night dwindled on and the warmth of the alcohol loosened inhibitions, Adam became more talkative and animated - always with his measured way with words, his careful enunciation and always that intensity when he was passionate about something, but his hands became more and more expressive, his smiles more frequent, his laughter bolder. 

As Adam and Noah got caught in a lengthy debate about a play they’d both recently seen, Adam still with one hand firmly on your knee, Greta leaned across the table and poured you another glass of wine. She spoke to you in a lowered voice.

“You make such a sweet couple, you know that? I know it’s cliche, but you do. He seems… really happy. Relaxed. I haven’t seen him this happy in a while, you know. Even with all his rehearsals, he somehow looks - just calmer.”

She gave you a big smile. You warmed at her words, somehow needing this reassurance. 

“It’s… it’s really early days…” you hesitated. “I mean, I think we were both a bit taken by surprise at how this came about, at least I certainly was!”

“You look like you’ve known each other for ages.”

“I… we have similarities, I think. He gets me. DOes that sound crazy, I mean we’re still getting to know each other. I’m… We’re keeping it on the low down.”

“Oh god, yeah. Enjoy just getting to know each other, without all the crazy stuff. I get that.”

“I mean, I’m still registering that I’m sat in this room and we’re drinking wine and talking shit about auditions or, dogs, netflix or whatever and I’ve seen all your, all Noah’s movies. I mean, it’s surreal to me. Brilliant, but surreal.”

“You’re welcome any time. Which I say with all sincerity even though we’re mad workaholics and I barely even get to see Noah half the time. We’ve been trying to get dinner organised for MONTHS” She laughed. 

“I’d love that. I mean, I know your schedules are probably nuts, but if you could give me some notes on the script I’m working on? I’d really appreciate it.”

“YES! Of course, I’d be happy to.”

Your brain, fuddled with wine, could basically die and go to heaven at this point. 

***

“DANCING!” GReta shouted after conversation had lulled into a comfortable quiet in the glow of the candlelight, all of you full from a round of desserts. 

Noah shook his head laughing, “My wife, everyone. You cannot have dinner at our house and leave without Greta making you dance.” he turned to you, “it’s the law, although Adam gets away with avoiding it every single time.”

“True. I think I’ve danced once?” he questioned, “was I pretty drunk?” 

“You were. It was when you came over after the critics circle awards. It was a rare and unusual sight. You weren’t eating anything because you needed to lose weight for a role, but I think you had a couple of vodka martinis... ”

“I dance like a banana.” Adam said, grinning as he said it, and you nearly spat your wine out laughing.

“Like a _banana_? Oh, I have to see this now.”

“Oh no, no, no.” he shook his head, smiling now even as he made to move.

Greta immediately came and grabbed Adam, pulling him out of the chair, both of them giggling - the bourbon and wine had everyone pretty merry, “Oh yes, yes. Come on, we want banana dancing and we want it now.”

“Hell yes!” you exclaimed.

“Noah, if you would do us the honour” she hollered as Adam unfolded himself from the dining chair and Noah went and changed the record to some David Bowie, the sound of GOlden Years piping through the living room.

You couldn’t resist this, and kicked off your shoes, immediately getting into a groove as the beat kicked in. As you swayed in the golden glow of the room, Adam came up behind you, lifting your hands above your head and slowly twirling you round to him, pulling you into a embrace as you both found your rhythm. Greta was jumping about around you, arms waving, all of you singing along to the music - one of your favourite songs. 

Noah eventually joined, the pair in perfect union - used to years of dancing as a couple, as you and Adam both rocked out, him all arms in the air, then hands reaching for your waist, spinning you out, bringing you back to him, swaying you gently, between kisses that he now gave you unashamedely, laughing openly, the smile he gave you infectious and adorable. He then dancing around you, his tall body somehow awkward and impossibly elegant all at the same time, his hips in a groove, making you laugh back at him. You danced with Noah, both of you doing a comical shimmy - Pulp Fiction style - for a moment suspended in time you were expericing pure joy.

Eventually the song ended, all of you laughing, and Moose - who’d been dancing along with you, was now playfully nuzzling all of your feet, bewildered at all the excitement. Adam put an arm around your shoulder in the middle of the living room, pulling you near and placing a chaste kiss to your head as you wrapped your arm around him. He looked down at you, his eyes so bright, his lips betraying the sweetest of smiles, his hand squeezing the soft of your hip.

“I’m so happy right now” he said simply, low enough that only you would hear. You felt your heart swell at his words and on tiptoe reached up to kiss his beautiful lips, wanting to feel his smile against your mouth. AS he held you and returned the kiss you heard Noah and Greta busy themselves clearing the table, an obivous desire to give you both a moment.

Adam smoothed a loose wave of your hair back, stroking your cheek, eyes searching yours with a softness that nearly melted you. He kissed you then, softly, like a prayer, his heartbeat fast against the palm of your hand as you clung onto his shirt. When he pulled away he let out a slow breath.

“I’m tired” he said, “but so happy. I just… uh, you’re like a fucking amazing thing that’s come into my life. I wasn’t expecting it. This.”

You were speechless for a moment, just enjoying his gaze, stroking his face, tracing the constellation of marks on his cheeks.

“Me neither…” you eventually answered. “I… it almost scares me.”

“I don’t want to scare you. For it to scare you”, he looked serious. 

“No, no, I don’t mean in a bad way. Just. I’ve had bad experiences before but never anything to lose. I feel like… you and I. it feels like I suddenly have something to lose. And I don’t want to lose it. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” he kissed you gently. “I… really don’t want to lose it. You. Um...If you want to slow down, I would understand? if this is all too much?”

“No, no, I don’t want to, if you don’t want to. I think… we’re both busy, we’ll be forced to take it slow anyway” you giggled, “I just want to be honest with you and not hide my feelings, I’m sick of games and bullshit. It’s just… it’s very intense. What I feel.”

“I feel it too. Don’t worry. It’s scary, but really, really good scary.”

You cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss, pouring all of your emotions into it, feeling him need you as he kissed you back, his mouth sighing and body pulling you to him. WHen you pulled away you saw the tiredness in his eyes. He glanced at his watch, 

“It’s 2 am… oh shit. I’m pretty merry… and exhausted.” he said, rubbing his eyes and stretching. 

“Me too. Shit, I have work as well tomorrow, and you have rehearsals early, no?”

“Yeah…I’m going to be awful. OK, let’s go. Moose? Here buddy, it’s home time.” Moose came waddling over as you went to find Greta and Noah in the kitchen where they were clearly hiding out, giving you space.

“Guys, we’re heading… can’t believe it’s this late. Thanks SO much for an amazing evening. I feel… you made me feel super welcome.”

Noah gave you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek “Are you kidding? Our pleasure. You’re clearly good for Adam, he looks so happy.”

“That’s what I said” Greta piped in as Adam came up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and kissing you in the crook of your neck.

“I agree” Adam nodded, “And right now, so busted. I need to get some serious sleep! Thanks again both of you, I promise I won’t let this long go by before next time. You should come to mine.”

“Sure! We’ll hold you to that.”  
  


You said your goodbyes, Adam called for a taxi and you finally left the apartment, Moose in tow.

As you waited on the stoop for the car to arrive, under the soft light of a few speckled stars in the warm July night, Adam simply held you close, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Would you stay at mine?” he whispered. “Please?”

You were both exhausted, and had originally discussed “being good” for the sake of both your work the following day and not going home together, but you didn’t want to let him go, no matter how groggy you were going to feel in the morning. 

“Yes. I’d like to stay with you. I… I’m super tired… just, in case...”

He chuckled, knowing what you were thinking, he was thinking the same.

“I could sleep standing right here, I think the adrenaline just wore off from the week. I want to make love to you, I mean seriously, I’ve been horny as fuck all day just looking at your, but I don’t think I could…” he grinned.

You giggled, and kissed him in the dark, laughing softly into his chest. “Me neither, oh god, are we just old people now?” you both chuckled, then quietly, “I want to wake up beside you, Adam.”

“I want that more than anything.” He said back, feeling his heart pull with happiness knowing you’d be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes the next day. Finally a car pulled up to the kerb. He took your small hand in his, placing the briefest of kisses to your wrist before walking you to the cab. 

As you drove off into the quiet of the night, you both just held each other close, quietly excited at this new and beautiful relationship developing between you.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  



	10. Not going anywhere...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy needs to make some choices and face up to things and friends speak truths.  
> ***  
> I still do not own or know or have anything to do with Adam and the blessed holy freckles and moles on his perfect, perfect face, his giant ears and big nose and ridiculous long legs and deliciousness.  
> ***  
> Locations are all based on real places.  
> ***  
> This is an AU fic, set somewhere around 2019 but drawing on bits and bobs that we know about Adam and his career / life etc.  
> ***  
> THERE BE SOME SMUT / LEMONY BITS because we need it in these troubled times!  
> For sleepy Adam image reference: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738358254/  
> For sorry, "I'm coming round" Adam: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/3025924738358257/

**Chapter 10**

**Monday - 3am**

When you finally got to Adam’s after leaving Noah and Greta’s apartment it was almost 3 am and you could barely keep your eyes open. Adam carried Moose off to his dog bed - the poor thing had slept the whole way home in the cab - as you made your way up the spiral staircase to his room in the dark. 

You brushed your teeth quickly in the ensuite as you heard Adam busy about downstairs pouring glasses of water, and, as you hadn’t brought a change of clothes _(again! I need to plan better for these eventualities!_ , you thought) you grabbed a cotton t-shirt from the drawer in the closet you remembered from last time, assuming he wouldn’t mind.

You got under the covers, sinking peacefully into the soft cool sheets of his enormous bed, realising you’d never actually slept in it, since you’d both crashed on the sofa last time. Your body quickly slipped into a warm, hazy slumber fuelled by the bourbon, the ebbing adrenaline of a perfect evening, the bergamot scent of the sheets that smelled of Adam. 

When he crept in a few minutes later you were curled under the covers, your hair tumbling over the pillows and a hand splayed on his side of the bed. His breath caught, not moving for a moment as he just watched you, a softness coming over his face, a stirring ache in the depth of his ribs, a quiet but intense desire. He quietly padded round to your side of the bed to place a glass of water on the bedside table before returning to his side, taking off his pants and shirt, removing his watch and ever-so-delicately sliding into the bed beside you. His body was racked with tiredness, but even as he felt the wave of exhaustion wash over him as he stretched out under the covers he turned to face you, eyes adjusting to the dark enough to appreciate the hint of smile at the corner of your lips, the perfect ‘v’ of your cupid’s bow, the patch of freckles on your cheeks and nose. He was captivated.

You stirred then, aware of his presence, the warmth in the bed, the heady closeness of Adam’s body next to yours. Your eyelids fluttered open briefly, meeting his eyes in the darkened room, his face so close to yours. He was watching you, eyes tired, soft, but gazing at you with a need that pulled you in as you reached out to touch his face, your pulse beating so loudly you feared it was echoing in the peaceful silence of the room. His lips parted slightly, emitting a gentle whispered breath as your fingers brushed against the small mole to the right of his nose, the smatter of freckles on his cheek, the curve of his ear. WIthout uttering a word he simply slid his hand out to find the skin of your hip under the covers, his arm sliding to pull you to him and his lips meeting yours in a slow, half-asleep kiss so tender you could dissolve, the heat and softness of his tongue seeking yours, seeking permission which you granted without hesitation, curling your body into his and your arms around his neck. You were all softness, tenderness and sweet caresses beneath the sheets, his strong arms enveloping you in a protective embrace as his heart beat against yours, and minutes later, still entwined, still pressing lips to lips you both slowly drifted into a blissful slumber. 

***

The night did not last nearly long enough. A thin sliver of light cut through a gap in the curtains and fell over your eyelids as you jolted awake, suddenly nervous you’d overslept, body still tired. Adam felt your movement and pulled you closer to him, you’d turned in the night to a foetal position, Adam spooning behind you, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers interlaced with yours. He felt heavenly against you as you pressed the small of your back into him, revelling in the weight of his arms, the masculine smell of his skin, a flicker of memory of his tongue in your mouth, his hot kisses and you felt a dampness seep between your legs and instinctively tightened your grip on his fingers. You felt him respond with a small grunt as he nuzzled into the back of your neck, slowly waking. 

You reached quickly for your mobile on the bedside table, checking the time. 6.45 am. You technically needed to be up in 15 minutes. You wanted to murder all mobile phones everywhere, or, in fact, just murder the entire concept of time, then and there. 

Adam pressed a kiss against your neck, more kisses between your shoulder blades, his hand, still holding yours, sliding down to caress the curve of your belly, reaching under the t-shirt to feel your skin. When he pulled you closer you felt him hard against the back of your thigh, a ragged breath from him as you rubbed yourself gently against his length, your face flushing with an immediate desire, a need fired by having wanted him so much yesterday and having chased dreams of him through the night. 

“I want you” he simply whispered into your hair, the tip of his tongue caressing the curve of your ear before he claimed your earlobe with his lips, sucking gently and sliding his hand further down your belly, fingers skimming against the cotton of your panties as you pressed harder into him, needing to feel his want, wanting to feel how hard you made him. You freed your hand from his, allowing him access to slip his long fingers under the elastic of your panties and slowly tease the damp curls between your legs. As he began a sensuous, slow play of his fingers, gently parting the lips of your pussy, delicately stroking them, feeling them slicken as you arched into his palm, you slipped your hand behind you and wrapped it around his shaft, warm and tight, drawing a low growl from Adam’s throat as he pushed into your hand with urgency, wanting you, wanting to be inside you, intoxicated by you.

You knew you wouldn’t last long as Adam, fingers slick with your juices slid his index finger inside you, curling up to stroke you as the skin of his palm grazed against your swollen clit. He moaned gently into your hair and you turned, wanting to kiss him, to steal the breath from his lips. His fingers continued their ministrations as you found his mouth, kissing him hungrily, feeling the desire burn off him as you stroked him faster, teasing the head of his cock with your thumb, he was already slick. 

“Adam, I want you inside me, _please_. I need all of you.” He groaned and bit softly into the skin of your neck, buckling at the naked want in your voice, and with an action almost instinctive at this point, he reached one arm back to the bedside table, yanked the drawer open and found a condom, even whilst the fingers of his other hand strayed back to your clit, circling the delicate nub with teasing strokes, your body a wired bundle of electrified nerves. His hand left you to slide the condom on as you slipped your panties down, not even bothering to take them completely off as they tangled around your feet and you felt Adam pull you close now, his body a muscular wall of heat rocking against you as his large hand gently curled your thigh up and in one quick thrust he buried himself inside you, drawing a loud cry from both of you. He cradled you as he moved inside you, both your bodies taking a moment to find a rhythm as you clung to each other, bodies slick with sweat in the humidity of the summer morning heat. Between wet kisses to your neck, shoulders and mouth Adam caressed your breasts, cupping one in his hand, teasing the delicate bud, tracing your ribs as you reached your arm back and dug your fingers to the flesh of his thigh, his hip, wanting to touch all of his skin. 

“I’m so close, Amy” he breathed, flush against you, “You…you’re going to make me...I, Amy...” he couldn’t finish as you tightened, feeling your orgasm build and your body respond to the rumble of his voice, causing him to thrust harder. You turned and leaned to him, pressing your mouth to his, lips parted, his eyes searching yours, so much desire, so much emotion in his eyes, his pupils dilated, shining. You closed your eyes, arching back to take his full length.

“I’m going to come...make me come Adam” you whispered, and no sooner had you said it than he slammed into you, fingers reaching back round to slip between your thighs again, wet and hot, drawing the first wave of your orgasm from you as he stayed inside you, deep, feeling the ripple of your undoing pulsate around him, bringing him closer to the edge. He came hard, a ragged yelp escaping his lips, his body tense like a coil, every muscle in his body taut, his thighs shaking against yours as he released, pressing his forehead to your shoulder and kissing you silently, arms tightening across you as he slowly exhaled. 

You lay like that for several minutes, breaths rapid, bodies slick with sweat. Adam was still inside you, your hearts beating in tandem, neither of you wanting him to pull out, both enjoying the feel of the occasional involuntary tug between your legs as the remnants of your orgasm continued to pulse through you, kissing now tenderly and slowly, your faces hot and flush, his hair damp against his forehead, the back of your neck slick against the bunched cotton of his t-shirt. 

You both knew you had to get up, that despite both your desires you did not have the luxury of staying like this. Adam finally slid out of you, discarding the condom on the bedroom floor before you turned in his arms to face him, brushing the damp curls from his forehead. His eyes shone, but betrayed a flicker of concern, his mouth in a soft pout you couldn’t resist kissing.

“I want more time, Amy. I want more time with you…” he mumbled as you kissed him. 

You pulled back, his eyes looked frustrated.

“I’m here.” You smiled at him, wanting to know what troubled him.

“I know. I just, I want more time. I want to be able to stay like this, to spend the day like this. To get breakfast, I don’t know. Stupid shit like that. I’m… you… this is new and I want to go to work and do this play because it’s what I love, but… I also want more time for us.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Adam.” You said softly wondering if it could be true that he harboured the same anxieties as you. In a world where his entire persona projected an image of confidence and charisma, a commandeering, effortless sexiness, a man in constant demand, you couldn’t square with the realisation that he clearly also felt the fear you felt. Even if he’d hinted at it at Noah and Greta’s.

“I know, I just… I don’t want you to just be something that is rushed between other things. I don’t want you to think that I…” he trailed off, biting his lower lip as he tried to find the right words. Adam, always careful about what he said, always thoughtful, measured. It was so endearing, but also, you realised, a habit borne of anxiety, quiet and simmering. Always there. Always afraid to let loose, always guarded, serious. Your heart ached for him. 

“I don’t think what you think I do Adam…” you rested your palm against his cheek, “yes, I want time too, I want to know you, want you to know me, but we do have time. If you want more time, we can have the time, we’ll just go slower than people normally do. I’m not going anywhere, we can take all the time we need.” You repeated it to make sure he got it.

He sighed, still not fully comfortable.

“It’s just that last night I was so happy. I haven’t had a “normal” night like that for a while, and you - seeing you like that, hanging out, dancing, having fun. It… you should have that all the time, that’s what this should be like. A new relationship. Instead, I don’t know. Maybe I’m not explaining very well…” You pressed your lips to his, conveying as much as you could all the reassurance in the world. 

“Adam, I… we’ve not talked about this, and we will, but just so you understand: My last relationship was full of ‘time’ together, but it was founded on pain. And hurt. And the fun? Er...It was surface, it was constant wooing, but every act of seduction came at a cost. I was always made to pay for what I got, or to feel I had to earn it. I never want that again. With you… I don’t feel any of that hurt. If small moments like this is all we have for the next few months because of your schedule and my schedule, but the moments are as genuine and as close as these are, then I would rather have that. It just means we navigate this more slowly, and maybe that’s no bad thing. We can make moments...”

“See? I want to know all these things, your stories.” he smiled, kissing you, looking reassured despite his obvious anxieties. “I don’t like the sound of that asshole, though…”

“My toxic ex?” you chuckled, “No, you don’t want to hear about it. And I don’t want to talk about him. Not yet, anyway, I can’t. I just want to enjoy this. I… when I saw you at the photoshoot yesterday, it was so strange for me.”

“Strange?”

“Yeah, it was just… it was the first time actually seeing you in “work mode” - it felt surreal, detached somehow seeing you in that environment. I don’t know… at first it was strange, then I think I finally reconciled that you are… who you are…”

“Oh, yeah, I think I see what you mean…” he looked sad for a moment.

“No, it was good. I mean, it was like I saw both sides of you, the work you and the you you, with no separation and I think I finally stopped feeling the nerves I’d been feeling until that moment. I’m rambling…”

“You’re not. It’s nice to hear you explain it, I don’t even think about it, but I think I understand.”

“It’s not that it phased me or anything, it’s just, up until then I wanted to pretend that really you’re just a guy I met and there isn’t this whole crazy Hollywood world around you, this thing that will make things… complicated, or just different... But there is and you _are_ in it, but actually, it’s just work like anything else and it’s something I have to… I _will_ get used to and that small moment on the shoot, I just had a moment where it was all… demystified I think.”

He kissed your cheek, then pressed his lips to your forehead, caressing the back of your neck. 

“It is a bit crazy, even now after, you know, several years, I still pinch myself every day that I get the privilege of making movies, of working with amazing directors and I’m all too aware of how lucky I am, how insane it all is. It’s not a normal life, it comes with a lot of shit, it’s… I need people around me to keep me grounded, I don’t like all the stuff that comes with it, the bougie shit. But also, I love so much of it, it’s humbling, it’s crazy that I get to do this and I don’t know if I’ll ever live up to it…”

It was your turn to kiss him, this glorious man, so full of talent and yet so unaware of how incredible he was, still now racked with a self-doubt you realised must have been ingrained for years. 

“Adam, you deserve everything you have, you work so hard for it…”

He thanked you silently with his eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you because of the crazy.” he simply stated. “If it gets hectic, which it will, I don’t want it to scare you. And you’re going to be busy too, and I want to be there and support you, I just don’t know how present I can be, if it will be enough for you, and that makes me nervous. I’ll do everything I can, I swear.” He pulled you in a tight hug, resting his lips on your shoulder, wanting to communicate to you his presence, his desire to be with you. 

You wanted him to never let go. Y _es, we can do this -_ you thought. _If I get pulled into this world, fine, if my career takes off and things go crazy, fine. Other people do it, we can do it._ His words had surprised you, the depth of his feeling after such a short time. But it was clear, both of you wanted this, needed it, you were prepared for crazy.

The significant moment was rudely interrupted by the shrill ringing of an alarm, it was his cell phone. It was 7 am. You both hid under the covers, willing time to stop. 

***

**Monday - day**

You left Adam’s to change at yours, you were not about to have another embarrassing ‘yesterday’s clothes’ encounter - he’d called you a car and promised to find a moment to see you during the next days, even as you’d heard his morning call from Hannah reeling off a seemingly non-stop stream of appointments and rehearsals. 

You had promised a hang out with Rose and had a late shift at the pound that day. Despite your exhaustion from the limited sleep you didn’t want to renege on your promise and wanted to spend time with your friend.

The pound had been surprisingly busy and you also had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so when you finally shut shop at 5.30 pm you were desperate for a cooling drink and some fresh air.

You and Rose grabbed a sunny table at Brooklyn Beer Garden, she was almost falling over her words wanting to hear your news, wanting to get updates, probing you and you couldn’t help but laugh at her hysterical enthusiasm.

You told her as much as you were comfortable with, keen to retain the privacy of your fledgling relationship, but enough that she sensed this was serious and you and Adam were a realistic thing. 

You did however explain to her the challenges coming up, with Adam on insane rehearsal schedules and your theatre project becoming a full time job on top of your PhD and day job.

Rose listened avidly, then promptly laid on the table the very choice you knew was correct but that you hadn’t wanted to face up to, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it, nor how Adam would.

“The way I see it is this,” Rose began, “you have two options, both come at a cost. You need to decide which is the bigger cost.”

“Ok… explain…” even though you knew what was coming.

“Well... both of you are going to be super busy for the foreseeable. If you want to remain completely secret from the world, you’ll almost never get to see him and when you do it will be sneaking around, limited, likely late at night and tired, or not for weeks on end. If you want to have moments you can hang out and actually have a relationship, quality time together you can find time and ways to meet, but people are going to know. It’ll be public. Your privacy… is not going to be so private… any more…”

You sighed at the inevitable truth and buried your head on your arms at the table, groaning. 

“Urgh, I know… I’ve been thinking about that all day… we sort of talked about us having time this morning, or rather, not having any. I think he’s concerned he won’t have any for me, and I’m scared that if I ask for time, it’s like you said - the privacy will become obsolete. I don’t know how I feel about that...it’s so early. Urgh, I don’t even know if I want to talk about it with him.”

“The thing is, he’s a private guy in general, right?”

“Enormously, it’s all about the work for him. He’ll play the celebrity game and respects it in as much as it drives the work he does and it’s necessary to be out there to get the opportunities he does, but he’s not a gossip nor does he engage in any way with social, or any of that. I mean, he would never…he’s old fashioned. A gentleman… for want of a better word.” You smiled, the word was so apt.

“So… theoretically… if people find out he is dating someone, what’s the worst thing that can happen? Magazines will gossip, your picture will be out there, but would he ever talk about it? Would he ever put you in a position where you and he are the story, rather than his work or your project? You can’t hide forever.”

“No, he never would. But… the pictures, the gossip. I don’t know if I can handle it. I saw his name on Twitter the other day and read some of the stuff, I mean it’s fucking crazy. People are crazy, I know I don’t pay attention, but I worry that I would. That I’d let it get to me. It’s a dark rabbit hole to go down.”

“Then you would lean on him, he’d support you. I’d like to think he would anyway, if he’s a decent man. Which I get the impression he is. He’s been living that life for years. You know I would be there for you too, and Jonathan, and your friends. You are you, you’d never be different for us, and ultimately, sure that’s all that matters?”

You wanted to believe her, but the thought terrified you. It was one thing if your show took off and it led to exposure and opportunities and you knew that with that came media intrusion or “celebrity” - a word you couldn’t even contemplate in your mind associated with yourself. But it was a whole other thing being simply the subject of gossip, fan hate, speculation and rumour, media invasion and to suddenly be in the firing line of a microscope on your life. Assuming that’s what would happen. 

And then you were just embarrassed for even caring, or entertaining the idea that anyone would care. You knew you needed to let Adam know what you wanted, if you could figure it out yourself.

***

**Saturday - later that week.**

But days passed. A week. You were running ragged between projects, jobs, meetings, fuelled by little more than bottomless caffeine, adrenaline and anxiety. Adam was equally absent. Texts at odd hours, infrequent for ages, then coming in in a flurry, mostly late at night, the wording betraying him as anxious, guilty, tired. His words were needy, then frustrated, then sweet, then functional - usually when tiredness had really claimed him. You worried then that messaging you was feeling like an obligation, that the last thing he needed right now was the responsibility of keeping you front of mind instead of just focusing on his play. Likewise as your days got longer and busier you started to hesitate before contacting him, having so much to say and so little time to express it properly that a few texts didn’t feel enough, that - from a lack of knowing how to explain the entirety of how you felt and what you wanted in just a few typed words you just opted to write nothing at all. 

A week had passed with little to no proper contact with Adam and your heart and mind hurt. Jonathan sensed it as you both left a play reading late on Saturday night, you were flat, eyes red and tired, shoulders slumped.

“You need to call him and just ask to see him. Demand it. You’re theorising and panicking, I can see it in your eyes, and the thing is - you’re inventing things in your head because you’re stressed and exhausted.”

“I’d be bothering him.”

“See, this is exactly the problem. He’s probably thinking the exact same thing, and you’ll kill this thing before it even takes off because of your mutual obsession with ‘respecting the other’s work’ or ‘space’ or whatever bullshit.”

“But… I don’t even know what I want. I’m not sure… also, I…”

“You do. You know you do. I know you do. You want to be with this guy and not like this. You don’t think you deserve this, that you can have the show and be successful AND have the good guy.”

“What if he doesn’t want it. He sounds… like maybe he regrets starting something… it’s too much right now.”

“Again… putting words in his mouth. If he sounds anything like you do right now, miserable and super tired, then that’s probably how he comes across. You need to talk. Properly. You need to spend time together and you are actively inventing excuses to not have that time.”

“When have I had time? When does he have time???”

“Well, you could be there now instead of talking to me for the fifth night this week. I love you Amy, but my god I’m sick of seeing your face - it’s been daily rehearsals for a week and we both need a break.” He smiled and pulled you into a friendly hug. “You’re both busy, but you’re not both SO busy you can’t spend one evening together, even if it’s just to talk. You need to do this.”

You sighed. He was right, as ever. You were so tired you just sniffled into his shoulder. 

“You’re right.”

“I know. I’m an amazing friend. You should really pay me more.” You both giggled as you wiped your eyes. 

“I need to go. And make a phone call.”

“Yes you do. And remember, he cares about you. Communication is the only way you’re going to get through this. Not silence.”

You left Jonathan to get the subway back to Brooklyn and finally make the call you should have made earlier.

***

**That same Saturday 11 pm**

The phone rang out, five rings, six. The knot in your stomach got tighter as it didn’t pick up. It was late, you were probably just a nuisance. You got angry at yourself even for thinking that way, this was a two way street. He hadn’t called you either, why should you make all the effort. God you were tired.

As you were about to hang up in frustration you heard the phone line click.

“Amy…”

“Adam.” There was a long silence, suddenly all the words you had thought of saying just vanished from your mind and you just felt overwhelmed at hearing his voice.

“I...”

“I…”

You both started to speak at the same time. You deferred to him, wanting to hear his thoughts, which you’d been torturing yourself over all week.

A long sigh.

“Um...Amy, I’m sorry. I should have called. I… Jesus, just hearing your voice, I miss you so much. I wanted to call, but it was always late and I didn’t want to bother you, then it felt too long, then… I don’t have any excuses. I didn’t hear from you much so I just thought, maybe… you were rethinking everything.” Silence… then, “I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve thought about you every minute.”

You let out the deepest breath, almost wanting to laugh at how stupid the pair of you had been. But through the exhaustion all you could manage was a flare of anger.

“Yes, you should have called, Adam. I’m… fuck, I spent all week just thinking I had become a chore for you. I didn’t want to bother you and I just assumed you’d come to the conclusion you couldn’t do this. Me. This… have a relationship. Whatever this is.… I got scared. Texts are not enough right now.” 

The lack of response on the other end of the line was deafening. You slumped. 

“Adam… I’m sorry. I’m tired. I… I miss you too. So much.”

“I… see this is what I was worried about. And don’t apologise. I picked up the phone so many times to call and I just… didn’t. I didn’t know what you were thinking so I made my own thoughts up. None of them were good. When I said I wanted this, I meant it.”

You sniffled, wishing he couldn’t hear it.

“Amy, are you crying?”

“No. No, I just… my nose is running. It’s been a long and crazy week and I feel sore in my bones. And I needed you. Need you. Wanted you to talk to, and I was stupid enough to think you wouldn’t also need that, that you were just fine.”

“I did want that. I do. I… looks like we’re both two giant idiots.” He sounded pained. “I worry it will be like this. All the time. I want to come and see you, are you home?” 

You sat up from your curled position on your sofa. Adam, at your flat? Coming close to midnight? You desperately wanted to see him, but the thought that he wanted to come running over like that startled you. Your heart filled with warmth as you smiled down the phone.

“Yes. I’m home, and yes. I really… I would like that. Aren’t you tired? I mean, it’s late, you’ve had a long week…”

“Don’t move. I’m coming over right now. Don’t say another word. I want to see you, I don’t like that you sound so sad, and I… this is what we should be doing. I want to be there for you and I really, really want to see you.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

“Moose is coming too. Is that ok? I… Do you mind?”

“Are you kidding. Please bring him too. I…um… my apartment.”

“What?”

“It’s… um, small and I… it’s not like yours.” Your voice was so small, you didn’t even recognise yourself in that moment. Hating yourself for caring, knowing he didn’t. Exhaustion seeped through your bones.

“Amy… I…” he sounded angry for a moment that you thought of him that way, “You know I don’t care about that, right? I really, really don’t... it’s so… it’s unimportant. I don’t… no, you can’t think like this.” You could hear him shaking his head. Realising he was getting snappy he softened. “I… I’m coming over right now. Amy, it’s _your_ apartment. _You’re_ in it. It’s full of you, your things. Because of that it is perfect.”

You heard Adam busying himself around his apartment, packing a bag by the sounds of it, Moose yelping in the background. You were a mess of emotions: relief, anger - at yourself, the situation, confusion, need. You were going to tell him. You were going to ask to be in his life. Properly. Not a secret, not hidden, not if that was going to be like this. THere’d be no big public declarations, you would just be present, out in the open. You wanted to have that walk in the park. Wanted to be able to meet him after work, have him meet you. And if people found out, then so be it. You would navigate this together or not at all.

“Thank you for this.” you said, quietly.

“Don’t thank me, I need this as much as you do and I’m a dick for not doing this sooner.” he gruffed. “Ok, calling a cab now. I’ll see you soon. I… Jesus, I can’t wait to kiss you.”

He hung up. 

You took one look at the hectic mess that was your apartment and quickly tidied the evidence of a ridiculously busy week, heart beating fast with anticipation.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how do we think "the talk" will go? Is Amy ready for the fame game? Anyone feel like Moose needs a bigger part again? I miss Moose antics... Tanks for the OVERWHELMING feedback that makes me sing with joy, seriously you are all so kind sticking with this and spurring me on and giving me the confidence to keep writing. Your feedback is GOLD DUST to me, please keep the kudos and words coming! Apologies for any typos etc.


	11. Broken Coffee Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which agreements are made, Adam visits Amy's apartment and a kitchen counter is... "baptised".  
> ***  
> I don't own, know, have anything to do with Adam Driver or his world. Locations are based on real places.   
> ***  
> This chapter is smut smut smutty smut, with a topping of fluff.   
> ***  
> Some picture inspo for this chapter:   
> Casual baseball cap Adam: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/580612576947185152/

**That same Saturday… midnight**

Your intercom rang at exactly midnight. You padded over in your cotton shorts and shirt pyjamas, to buzz Adam in, impatient to hold him, needing his comfort. 

Your face - despite several washes in cold water was still puffed and mottled pink from tiredness and - you couldn’t deny it - tears of anxiety, which had quickly been followed by tears of relief knowing you were finally getting what you’d missed all week, the reassurance of a solid decision, of - hopefully - shared desires. 

You heard Moose before you heard Adam, his paws scrabbling excitedly up the unlit stairwell, then Adam treading quietly behind, not wanting to disturb your neighbours. Moose jumped up at you with happiness as you opened the door and you bent to give the dog a gentle hug, happy to see his wagging tail. You stood up and came face to face with Adam, his huge body taking up your whole doorway, his face drawn but smiling, illuminated in the amber glow of light from your sitting room, eyes a warm hazel glimmer, drinking you in. 

His hair was a rumple of waves under a dark navy hoodie, a laptop case in one hand, bottle of water in the other and a leather overnight bag slung over his broad shoulder. Without a word, he stepped in, dropped the bag on the ground and quickly dumped the laptop case and water beside it before pulling you into his chest, enveloping you in the sweet warmth of fresh, clean-scented cotton, a solid wall of heat, beating heart and strong, safe arms. He placed sweet kisses into your hair, eyes closed, breathing in the soapy scent of oranges from your shampoo, rubbing circles on your back with the palm of his huge hand as Moose nibbled at your toes. 

“Thanks for coming…” you muffled into his chest, eyes prickling again with a fresh sting at his protective embrace. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” He said, between kisses. He pulled away gently and looked down at you through hooded eyes, tucking a wave of hair from his face, back behind his ear then reaching down to stroke your cheek, lips pressing together with concern as he noted the redness of your eyes. 

“Hey… hey, Amy…” he leaned down and placed the gentlest of kisses to your lips, his mouth soft, a caress sweet like plums. Your arms trembled as a shot of heat pierced through you. “It’s ok…” he whispered into your mouth.

You kissed him back, relaxing fully into his arms and letting your small body respond, hands curling into his chest and hips pressing into him.

“We need to talk…” you mumbled eventually, drawing away from him and taking his hand. 

“I know.” he said, serious face on, eyes eager, flitting, biting his lip softly. 

“Coffee, first?” you asked, as he removed his hoodie revealing a snug fitting navy blue AITAF t-shirt underneath and slowly took in your living space. “I know it’s late, but… I honestly don’t think I’m going to sleep soon anyway.” 

He folded the hoodie and placed it on top of his shoulder bag, tucking it and his laptop case under your coat rack by the door, the military tidiness instincts kicking in. He removed his Nikes and placed them beside the bag. 

“Yeah, I’ll take a coffee. Thank you. Let me help you.”

He walked through your living / bedroom space - admiring for a moment the orange tree he’d gifted you, placed by the window, beside a small wooden stool stacked with books. He noted you’d kept the written card from the plant on a shelf by your window sill and his heart did a little leap. 

Your apartment was open-plan, a mish mash of reclaimed furniture, stacks of books, DVDs and pot plants, old theatre posters framed on the walls. In a curved alcove tucked away off one end of the living room, a double bed, Adam swallowed, chest tightening as he thought of you lying in it, tangled in the sheets, skin hot and bare, cheeks flushed under the glow of the paper lantern light beside it. 

Ahead, your kitchen, separated from the living space by a breakfast counter behind which you were busying yourself getting the coffee on. You had an old Italian moka coffee maker and as you filled it with the freshly ground rich roast from your local deli, Adam came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling the crook of your neck, making you smile.

“I like your apartment. It’s colourful, cosy.”

“You mean small?”

“I mean cosy. It’s nicer than anything I lived in my first years in New York. I stayed for a while in my uncle’s loft in Hoboken when I moved here. And by loft I mean actual loft, not a converted design job. It was a fucking glorified cupboard full of junk and I had two plastic bags of clothes and a cardboard box of books and that was it. It was pretty miserable. This feels like a home. It feels like you.”

You put the gas on under a ring and placed the coffee pot over the flames, turning in Adam’s arms to reach up into a kiss. Moose had claimed a spot under your old wooden coffee table and was snoozing pleasantly. 

“It is home. Sometimes it drives me nuts, how small it is, I get cramped, but it’s mine. I worked hard to have my own place, I couldn’t share anymore with roommates or whatever. I need quiet to think and write. I like sitting out on the fire escape steps in the evening with a book and a beer. I watch the people come and go in the street. The noise. There’s no noise like New York noise. It’s infuriating, but beautiful at the same time.”

Adam chuckled and nodded with you.

“Yeah… I hate it, but then I miss it when I’m not in the city. It’s crazy. Like it’s own symphony.” He went quiet, just looking at you, his eyes betraying his happiness at seeing you, his relief at being near you. 

“I really missed you, Amy. Really. I… I’m sorry. Again.”

“Me too. Don’t worry, I’m just really happy you’re here.” 

“Yeah, me too…” he took a deep, audible breath, and ran a hand behind his neck. “So…”

“So…”

You, straightened your shoulders. You needed to be the one to start the conversation. This had to happen on your terms. You had more to lose than he did, in your eyes. It was your life that would be more disrupted.

“Adam, I… when you said you wanted more time with me, I want the same thing. But I, um… I don’t want to be a distraction, something to pick up and let go when life gets in the way. An added obligation…”

“Amy, you were never in the way,  _ never _ an obligation…” he placed a hand around your waist, looking pained.

“No, I know, let me finish, please… What I mean is… we’ve both just spent a week being worried about contacting each other, about getting in each other’s way because of our work, but mostly because of the elephant in the room. And instead of talking, or communicating, we both shut off. Because we live in different worlds and we think they don’t mesh so easily. And we’re both scared. Because privacy is important to both of us and you live in a world where everything is about your public persona, your visibility and neither of us are fans of the idea of being thrust into that for reasons other than our work. And maybe I’ll never feel comfortable with it, but you at least have experience of it, and already live it. You manage it. But…”

The coffee pot whistled, interrupting you. You snapped out of the stiffness of your body for a moment, taking the pot off the heat as Adam asked “mugs?” and you pointed him towards a cupboard above the sink. He took two china mugs down, grabbed milk from the fridge and you poured out two mugs. You could see him wanting to speak, worrying his bottom lip, but respecting your need to finish what you wanted to say. He settled for kissing you sweetly, before taking a sip of the hot drink and settling back against the counter opposite you.

“...anyway. Here’s the thing. I don’t want a relationship like this. I… well, for starters, I want a relationship. I… get the feeling you do too, a real one. Not this. Not… midnight scrambled meetings, always tired, hurried. Secretive. Meeting you was unexpected and how this has taken off has… stunned me, if I’m honest. I, er… was sort of over the whole idea of meeting someone. But, I feel it. Strongly. And… if it’s going to happen, then I want it to happen. Fully.”

Adam put his mug down, shoving both hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and looking sheepishly at you, chest swelling. You let him say what he was clearly desperate to say.

“Amy, I feel like I was hit by a truck when I met you. Like… in a really good way, but you know…” he mimicked a slam, hitting his fist into his hand then blowing them apart, letting out a small pop of air from his lips. “I… I’ve not been in a relationship for… well, ever, really. Not since Julliard, not a proper one. And… I don’t know how it happened, but this, us, surprised me just as much as it surprised you. But please… don’t even think for a minute I don’t want a relationship. I do. I want this, I want us to explore this. I’d like to be with you. Fully.”

“Fully. And properly.” you stated, it wasn’t a question. Wasn’t an option you were laying on the table. But your face had broken into the widest of smiles that you couldn’t have hidden if you tried.

“Properly. If you’re absolutely sure...” he looked inquisitive, still hovering on the edge of nervousness, curling one foot under the other in his grey socks. 

“I am if you are. I… I don’t care anymore, the publicity thing. I think I'm probably also making more of a problem of it in my head than it would be. I mean, it’s only a big thing if we make it one, right? And I can’t spend my whole time worrying if you are worried either, I can’t shoulder that responsibility. So, if you’re prepared for us to be together, properly,  _ publicly _ … then I’m all in.”

“I’ve thought about this all week. I… you know I would never make this a story, right? It’s nobody’s business. And I don’t gossip.” Serious Adam was there with a vengeance, eyes hard, needing to be reassured that you trusted him implicitly.

“I know that. I trust you.” Relief.

“But… Amy, we  _ will _ be talked about, and you’ll be under a focus you won’t have experienced before, there will be some stuff we just can’t help. I need you to really understand that. But, we can control it, most of it, if we’re both on the same page. And I would support you, you know that. I can help you navigate the… It’s… I’m not insinuating you can’t look after yourself…” he looked embarrassed, like he didn’t want to sound like some puffed-up Hollywood star. He had no idea how much he didn’t but you chuckled to yourself watching him get all flustered, as he always did when a spotlight was on him.

“I’ll  _ need a teacher _ .” you joked, “And of course I understand it. I can handle it.” You stated simply, holding his gaze with a quiet strength. It wasn’t a request out of weakness, it was the knowledge that in order to make this work you needed him to help you through the fame game. But that you were fully in, ready to adapt, and you were no weak blushing flower. 

He took a long slow sip of coffee, watching you over the rim of the cup, then slowly put it down on the counter behind him and came over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, then gently lifted you onto the breakfast counter so you’d be level with him. 

“I have no doubt you can handle anything but I’d be  _ honoured  _ to be your teacher.” He joked back, eyes drinking you in eagerly as he moved to stand in between your legs, stroking a hand through your hair and resting his wide palm behind your neck. Then that lopsided uniquely  _ Adam _ smile graced his lips and he pulled you into an embrace, kissing you sweetly, his tongue seeking out yours, tasting of rich smoky coffee and dark chocolate. You revelled in the heat of his kisses, his hand splayed across your thigh, the faint scent of his sandalwood cologne, the silky skin of his neck, the rumble of pleasure from his barrel chest as he moaned into your mouth, deepening your kiss.

_ This, more of this. Always this. Time for this. _

You broke the kiss off to take a settling breath, not letting Adam go, your hand clutching the fabric of his shirt. After taking a long sip from your coffee cup, you stifled a yawn. Adam immediately responded with his own small yawn, eyes crinkling, both of you giggling. He kissed you again, a sweet kiss, broken with his toothy smile. 

“I feel better. Tired, but so much better.” he said, looking for a moment like a teenage boy, eyes sparkling, a goofy grin on his face. 

“Me too. I… I feel relieved. I…” You kissed him again not really needing to say more. You had both come to an agreement and it was all you had wanted. 

“So… tomorrow…” He began, uttering each word between stealing chaste kisses against your neck. You held him close, smiling up at him, expecting him to say he would be up early, out the door, off to a rehearsal or interview, or meeting or something. “Are you busy? Because… I have a free day…” he asked as he grazed his lips against your shoulder, tracing the tip of his tongue against your skin, a burning heat and an expectant hope in his tone.

You smiled into him, stomach roiling with pleasure at the feel of his hot wet tongue, trying to focus your mind for a moment. You cupped his face in your hands, wanting to see him, willing yourself to concentrate, despite the plush pink of his lips, the golden irises of his eyes taunting you with hungry looks.

“A whole free day? I thought you would be busy… with…”

“I, uh, moved some things around. I knew we’d have to have this talk at some point and honestly, I also just thought I would just come and find you. I was, uh, I don’t know… I was going to just run around and find you, I didn’t really have a plan. I would have struggled going another day without seeing you…”

You looked at him, letting out a short laugh before his dark eyes shut you up, causing your cheeks to heat pink under his gaze. You felt his thumb trace lazy circles on the skin of your knees, sliding higher, slipping under the thin cotton of your pyjama shorts to tease the tops of your thighs as he pushed his hips into you, pupils darkening, not leaving your eyes. You felt him hard, pressed between your legs, a tease of pleasure against your core, making you wet, a flush of warmth pooling in your belly as you felt the familiar ache for him growing, for his tongue, his fingers, his cock. You pulled him down for a kiss, more urgent this time, all tongues and teeth and soft biting.

“As it happens… I’m free too…” you uttered, words coming out in shortened breaths as you licked at his mouth, nipples stiffening as your sensitive buds grazed against his hard chest. “So, no need to get up early for anything…” 

Adam bit down on your bottom lip, teasing it with a flash of his pink tongue as the thumb of his right hand toyed at the edge of your panties and you gently spread your legs wider. He felt the dampness at the crux of your thighs, and his breath hitched. 

“You’re so wet.” he broke the kiss and simply gazed at you, hungry like a wolf, the pad of his thumb ever-so-softly seeking the swollen bud of your clit against the fabric and starting to rub it, gently, slowly, a beautiful torture, watching your cheeks flush deeper as you arched against his hand. “So wet for me…” he whispered and you pushed harder against his fingers, needing him to speed up, knowing he wouldn’t, that he would tease you as long as he could and you would melt to a puddle under his touch. You needed to feel him. 

You gripped his shoulder to steady yourself with one hand as with the other you reached for the top of his sweatpants and started to tug them down. He let out a dark growl as you slipped his pants down messily, exposing his cock, already thick and hot and aching. You cupped him with your hand, feeling him throb under your fingers as his breath got faster and shallower. 

“Amy…  _ Christ _ …” 

He slid his thumb under your panties, pushing the soaked cotton to one side to feel your slippery little nub, needing to feel you slick against his fingers as you started to stroke his shaft, so hard, so big... for you. He bit into your shoulder, sharp, eliciting a cry from you that soon dissolved into a drawn out moan as his thumb, wet with your juices, stroked you faster and he slipped two long fingers inside you, finding your sweet spot, causing stars to spike in your eyes. 

Your kisses were feverish, bodies urgent against each other as you awkwardly pulled at each other on the edge of the counter, Adam’s strong arm holding you close as his fingers pulsed a heavenly rhythm inside you, coaxing you close to the edge, his thumb circling your clit faster, varying the pressure, his tongue darting into your mouth to mimic the pump of his fingers, his breath hard and desperate. 

Your fingers hot and wet with pre-cum stroked up and down his shaft, squeezing him at his base, pulling gently on his balls before stroking back up to slick his swollen head, stroking under the throbbing ridge, drawing impossible moans from his mouth, from a place deep within him as he pumped increasingly frantically against your hand. 

He slid a third finger inside you, feeling the walls of your pussy tighten pleasingly around him, the early flutterings of your orgasm, driving him wild as you continued to pump him. You needed more, both needed more. 

“Adam… drawer… bedside...um…”

“OH… yes…” He grunted, knowing you needed a condom, but finding it impossible to separate from you. He pulled his fingers from you, dripping with your heat, leaving you huffing with need and slid his now free hand under your ass to lift you off the counter as you released his cock to clutch him round his neck. In an awkward shuffle, his pants round his ankles, your legs around his waist, both of you a horny, sweaty, panting mess, he carried you towards your bedroom alcove, his mouth still kissing you hungrily, lips and tongue lapping at every inch of skin he could whilst trying to find the drawer in question. 

His knee hit against it as you gripped him tighter round the waist with your legs, an almost painful ache between your legs as your soaking clit rubbed up against his belly. He leaned and reached out with a hand, both of you giggling as he fumbled in the drawer for the familiar pack and grabbed what he needed. 

“Mmm… bed… um…” your words came out in a breathless jumble, but Adam simply lifted you higher in his arms, sucking on the skin of your neck, trailing small bits up to your ear and growled into you gruffly,

“No... Counter.”

As you clung to him, you tried every which way to relieve some of the mounting ache between your legs clutching tighter against his belly, his arms gripping you, hands squeezing at the flesh of your ass. You felt him tugging his sweatpants off from around his ankles with his feet and kicking them away before striding back to the kitchen counter, sitting you down on the edge as he kissed you with a bruising urgency.

He leaned you back to pull your panties down completely and in doing so, with the frenzied rush to be inside you he knocked your coffee cup off the edge of the counter, shattering it to the floor. Neither of you paused for a moment as you slid further up the counter and you practically ripped his shirt off him as he tore at your thin pyjama shirt, skitting buttons across the floor. Lips, mouths, tongues clashed, hands everywhere, on your breasts, between your thighs, his nails dragging at your hips, your nails digging in to the firm muscles of his forearms, leaving deep red scratches down his shoulder blades and in between your mewls Adam slipped the condom on.

“Now, Adam… please!” You gripped the back of his neck, tugging hard at his hair as he gripped your ass and pulled you to him, one hand sliding up behind your thigh to lift it before thrusting into you, your pussy slippery and wet and tight, your lips on fire and nails almost drawing blood as he buried himself inside you, a cry from both of you as you gripped to steady yourself on the counter’s edge, somewhere the sound of another cup shattering to the floor. 

Adam pumped inside you, filling you so wholly you felt your whole body tremble. As he moved inside you his hands explored your body, his lips placed open mouthed kisses against your shoulders, sliding down to suckle at a pink nipple, lapping at the bud, teeth biting gently at the stiffened peak, grazing at the soft swell under your breath, sucking a hickey to your skin, marking you. You drew his face up to meet yours, eyes locking on his as he thrust inside you, his breath ragged and pupils blown wide, his starved gaze screaming for a release, yet never wanting this to end. You found his hand and, pausing to suck slowly at his fingers, drawing an even more ragged moan from him, you slid his fingers down, encouraging him to touch you, wanting to feel him stroke you, sensing he was close and wanting to meet him when his release came.

He didn’t hesitate, resuming the tantalising dance of his fingers against your clit, the sweet little nub swollen, glistening pink, smooth as a pearl and so sensitive. At the first swipes of his index over the slickened bud you clenched, a pulse like a sonar rippling through your body. It gripped him tighter inside you and he thrust even deeper, balls tightening, his mouth locked onto yours hard, his free hand pulling at your hair, a jolt of pain followed by a flood of raw pleasure, opening your mouth wider to claim you with his tongue. You felt yourself close to unravelling, thighs shaking, toes curling, A burning heat flickering deep in your belly. Adam sensed it too, the walls of your pussy tightening around him, a sensation close to heaven, his thrusts coming faster, harder, his lips wanting all of you all at once. HIs eyes fluttered against your neck, low, short gasps from his lips, as you felt yourself reach the crest of the wave before the fall.

“Adam....” your eyes blinked heat tears as electricity raced through you like a thunderstorm, a torrent of white hot pleasure rippling up your skin and you felt Adam’s knees buckle before he steadied himself hard against you, bodies flush and with a feral growl and shudder of his chest he came. His cock pulsed deep inside you as he fell apart in your arms, body convulsing, his seed draining from him, chest heaving. You felt him pump and pump, his throat hoarse as the energy coursed through his body, eventually calming as his body was spent. 

His bruised lips came to rest against your shoulder, barely forming the sound of your name as he finally slumped against your chest, forehead slick with sweat and sticky hair and you cradled him there, your bodies coming back down to earth together in a marriage of breaths and beating of hearts. 

When you finally came round, calmed, a few minutes later, reluctant to detach from each other but aware of the mess and the stickiness, the tiredness that was now claiming both of you, you unwrapped your arms from his shoulders, rousing him with sweet kisses against his hair.

“Well… You owe me two coffee cups…” you giggled as he slid his face up to meet yours and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, red and plump and sweet like sugar. 

“I’ll buy you a whole new set and then… we can break all of them all over again.” he giggled, slowly pulling away from you to assess the state of the kitchen. He looked up at you from his spot, broken china and coffee spill strewn around him.

You were a dishevelled, flushed mess of matted, sweat-slicked hair, pink cheeks and scratched thighs, your shirt crumpled around your waist, soaked panties dangling from one foot, breasts scattered with small purple bruises from his mouth. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life and his heart ached. 

He looked back down at the broken china all over the floor, shifting pieces with his toe, treading carefully to not cut his feet as you pointed him in the direction of a small closet where you kept a broom and dust pan. You admired him as he took in the mess with his serious face on, his hair falling over his eyes as he scanned the floor. Your eyes roamed over the hard planes of his chest, so broad, so large, the thick muscles of his biceps and roped lines of muscle of his forearms such a contrast to his long, elegant fingers - like pianists fingers - his hands so large, like they could break you or cradle you. You lingered on his soft, plush lips, currently in a silent pout as he surveyed the damage, pinked from kisses, his aquiline nose, long black eyelashes, trailing your eyes down to the slick tuft of wiry black curls at the end of his happy trail and his cock, softened now but still thick and heavy, a drip of your slick trailing from the tip against his thigh. His thighs, thick, dusted with black hair, raw with red scratches from your nails. He was impossibly tall, impossibly beautiful,  _ impossibly mine _ … you thought,  _ and yet not impossible at all.  _

He looked up at you and broke into a wide, open smile and your heart skipped several beats before he tiptoed round to grab the broom from the cupboard. 

After he’d quickly tidied the floor and you’d gathered your scattered clothes and dumped them in your linen basket, you went to the bathroom, both of you cramped up against your single sink facing the mirror as you brushed your teeth. It was as intimate as it was excitingly awkward, again the air of domesticity and contentment hanging heavy over you despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, him in your apartment, his immense size in your tiny bathroom, the newness of your movements around each other, both still learning each other’s habits, but already so easy. 

You were too tired for a shower but sticky and uncomfortable and as you finished brushing your teeth, with Adam nibbling soft kisses into your back, you’d soaped up a wet face cloth and he’d taken it from your hands, gliding the cool wet fabric across your skin with an impossible tenderness, as he watched you in the reflection. 

You washed your face and watched him moving behind you in the mirror, wiping his body with the same cloth, pressing the cool damp against his neck, his chest and drying himself off with the fluffy pink towel from your towel rail. A pleasant, intimate silence fell as you both caught each other in the mirror, exchanging awkward, happy smiles. He looked good in your bathroom. He felt good in your apartment. The heat of his body against your back was delicious.

Sleep came quickly when you finally made it to your bed, but not before Adam had pulled you to him, your hair fanning out across his chest as a broad arm curled around your shoulders, his naked skin against yours, warm, silky, soft. As you lay in the dark, small whimpers coming from Moose enjoying his dog dreams from across the living room floor, his heart fell into a slow steady rhythm with yours and he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your scent. 

“Being with you feels so calm, so right…” he whispered, and you sought out his hand in the dark, his fingers curling around yours across his belly. “I was really worried for a moment you would want to walk away. I’d have understood, but… it would have hurt.” His open confession, so devoid of games or double-meanings, just honest and clear, caught you - again - off guard. It was so refreshing, and frankly so incredibly sexy. To know you were wanted, to know what he felt. 

“I really thought when I first came to your apartment with Moose that this might be some sort of flash in the pan, ridiculous moment, a flurry… a flirting game for you, some kind of easy daliance…”

“A _daliance_? That’s… eloquent for 1 am.” he chuckled into your hair.

“A frivolous daliance…” you laughed softly, in a mock posh accent. “But… It’s like I’ve found a stillness, something anchoring. It’s crazy, I don’t know if it’s normal in such a short time. I just… I’d hurt too if you weren’t here.” You felt no reason to disguise your feelings either.

“You could never be a daliance. You left me flustered even after we first met. I don’t care what’s normal, but this feels so good.” he confessed in the dark. “When we were sat in that ridiculous tiny cupboard you call an office, I nearly forgot why I was there in the first place, I’d have probably gone home without a dog if you hadn’t actually made me fill out the papers.” 

“See, now that’s a lie. You’d jump off a building for Moose.” you grinned.

“Ok, yeah. I probably would. But there are no lies here. You had me all fucked up, because you’re fucking amazing. And I get to spend all day with amazing tomorrow, and I can’t fucking wait.” 

You pressed a kiss against his ribs, feeling his fingers run gently along your spine as he pulled the covers against you and wrapped you close, then you fell into the sweetest slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write one SUPER long chapter, but hate how long I am taking between posts mostly because I know how much I am impatient when I like someone else's fic and just keep checking for updates :D So am already halfway through writing chapter 12 which will come sooner! 
> 
> YOUR FEEDBACK ROCKS MY WORLD! Thanks again for everyone's kudos and comments, please do keep it coming it is my bread and butter and will to live!!! 
> 
> Thank you all and stay safe!


	12. Prospects in Prospect Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adam and Amy take Moose for the longest-awaited walk in the park and invitations are offered. Also breakfast smut.  
> ***  
> A shorter chapter this time around, but it moves us to a story-line I really want to do for the next chapter: Awards Ceremonies and Black Tie Adam!   
> ***  
> if there are any story-lines you'd like me to explore, in keeping with the tone of the story, PLEASE let me know - I'll look at any suggestions, whether story or smut based if they fit in the theme and format of the story! ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Adam or any part of this world, it is pure fantasy. All locations are real however. The awards ceremony mentioned is real, although dates are fluid. I try to draw on as many elements of the real as possible, whilst keeping this fiction a fiction in it's own right and AU.
> 
> THANK YOU for your continued support and feedback which I crave and love so much, and am so grateful for! I'm struggling during this corona nightmare, but the writing and feedback and kudos keep me going even if I am taking my time a bit more!

**Chapter 12**

**_(previous chapter recap: Adam and Amy finally have ‘the talk’ about whether they are prepared to face publicity as a “couple” in order to actually be able to spend time together, and decide that yes they do and they should probably celebrate this fact with some kitchen counter sizzles…)_ **

**Sunday**

You woke lazily on Sunday morning to the sound of a delivery truck reverse parking in front of the Chinese restaurant across the road from your apartment, a regular weekend occurrence. The whine of the truck’s alert lights seeped in under the crack of your open window, the air already hazy and thickly hot. You rolled over, seeking out Adam’s body to curl into, his smell, and found the other side of your bed empty.

Confused, with still only one eye open, you slid the covers down from over your head and, rubbing the other eye, poked your head up, momentarily panicking. Then two things made your heart skip a beat. 

Firstly, Moose had plopped himself on the end of the bed, his head tucked under a rumple of covers by your feet, paws poking out, tail beating a lazy wag. Secondly, as you peered round the corner of the alcove towards the kitchen you saw Adam, padding around your kitchen on tiptoe like a sculpted god in tight black boxers, his hair a mass of thick waves in a tousled mess, large hands fiddling with the coffee maker. You observed him as he poked through different drawers looking for a spoon, then stopping to look at the photos and cards pinned to your fridge with magnets. You loved watching him explore your kitchen, discovering you. You could see the faint trace of a curious smile on his lips as he pulled off a photo of you and your Dad, all dressed up, taken at a film festival you’d attended many years ago when you’d won tickets, a favourite memory. 

“Tribeca Film Festival. Three years ago. Dad was pretty sick by then, but he was still the sharpest dressed guy in the room.” You said softly into his back. You’d put on Adam’s t-shirt and went over to join him, wrapping an arm around his waist, fingers splaying across his skin. 

“He’s handsome, I see where you get your looks from.” He winked at you from over his shoulder before pulling you round into a heated kiss. “Mmmm, good morning beautiful. I was going to bring you coffee in bed....Wait. Tribeca? Three years ago? I was there…”

“ _ While We’re Young.  _ Yes, you were. I was at the screening, waaaaaay at the back. I think I remember seeing the back of your head.” You laughed. “How things change, huh?”

“Wow. Um, yeah...I’d have liked to have met him.”

“Hmm?”

“Your Dad. Sounds like he was such a big part of your life. Mine… not so much. We, ah, don’t really have much in common.”

Adam busied himself making coffee as he told you more about his parents, it was a difficult past, you could tell, and whilst he didn’t go into loads of detail you could tell he was giving you more than he had probably told many people, he’d already opened up before, you sensed he was working his way to getting comfortable sharing this with you. 

You made scrambled eggs and toast and took the pot, plates of food and a bottle of fresh juice on a tray to the larger living room window asking Adam to hoist it open.

“You might want to put some clothes on” you smirked at him. “Not for my benefit, I am VERY happy for you to just stay as naked as you can, but I’m not sure the folks of 6th are ready for Boxer Shorts Driver.”

“Oh! We’re… out there? Cool.” He grinned and went to grab a t-shirt and sweatpant shorts from his overnight bag before clambering out the window - itself a feat of gymnastics given his huge size - before joining you on the small perch of the fire escape.

“Welcome to my garden” you smiled, passing him a plate and his mug of coffee as the sun spilled onto both of you and the busy street below bustled with life. Moose had waddled over to plop his head through the window frame and rest his nose in the morning sun. You both fed him bits of toast as you enjoyed your breakfast, both of you unable to resist reaching in to kiss each other every five minutes, between mouthfuls of food. 

“Well, this bad boy is going to need a walk soon” Adam scritched Moose behind the ears who immediately perked up at the world “walk” and started wagging his tail furiously.

“Prospect Park?” he asked, brushing a tendril of hair behind your ears as he put his plate down by his feet. You were getting your walk in the park,  _ such a silly thing to get excited about _ you thought, but it meant so much really. You leaned into Adam’s palm against your cheek, placing a kiss against the pulse point on his wrist. 

“Yes. You have no idea how much I would love that. Then maybe… lunch by the river?”

“Sounds perfect. Also there’s a book shop I want to check out… Then… we’ll see where the day takes us. I feel like I haven’t had a day off for ever, I need this.” His smile was so bright and free of the previous day’s tension, it made your stomach dance.

He leaned over and gently pressed his lips to yours, flicking his tongue softly over your bottom lip, causing an instant tug of need between your legs as you parted your lips to meet his tongue with yours. He moaned gently and slipped his hand under your,  _ his _ , shirt, tracing a burning trail against your skin as his fingers slid up to stroke your nipple, already hard and sensitive to his touch. 

“Mmm, god I want to taste you, want to lick your nipples with my tongue, bite you.” He murmured in a low breath, shifting slightly in his awkward seated position beside you “...I’m hard again.”

You swallowed thickly, moving your body towards him, partly protected from view by the frames of the fire escape, but still feeling a small thrill at him teasing you out in the open, his palm cupping your breast, fingers tugging at your nipple, grazing across your ribs, his tongue licking against your lips a reminder of how they’d felt between your legs.

The street below was busy, but up here on the fourth floor it was just the two of you, and the sound of birds, and - hopefully - not so interested neighbours. As you deepened your kiss and Adam scooted closer to you you slid your hand along his knee and under the fabric of his shorts, feeling him part his knees to allow you access and you slowly brought the tips of your fingers to the top of his inner thigh, wrapping your hand slowly around his cock, his erection straining against his pants. You slowly teased him with a couple of lazy strokes, running your thumb across the head and he growled at the feel of your hot hand around his shaft, his foot hitting against the plate he’d set down beside him.

“Mmm… want you. NOW.” he practically barked in a hitched breath as his fingers gripped harder around your ribcage. 

“And I don’t want more broken china…” you giggled and scrambled up, releasing yourself from his grip to crawl back through the window, both of you in a rush to take what few clothes you had on back off as you tumbled towards the bed, leaving a confused Moose and mess of dirty plates out on the fire escape.

You made love twice, the first a rush of heat, tangled limbs, feverish and urgent, nails on skin, lips bruising, hair pulling and bites, visceral. Both of you had come hard and fast, Adam’s head buried between your breasts, skin slick, your hands gripping his sweat-licked hair tight in your fist. He was hard again minutes later, his hot, languid open kisses bringing both of you together again even as your hearts were still pounding.

You rolled him over beneath you, straddling his thick thighs and pinning his arms above his head as you’d lowered yourself slowly onto him, slick and wet, eyes locked on his, lips soft against his, tongues now in a slow and teasing dance as you barely rocked against him, just enjoying the feel of him filling you, your skin against his, sweet nothings whispered to each other as you kissed every inch of him. He sat up, pulling you into an embrace on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, barely moving, just the slow pulse of him filling you with a delicious warmth, his index teasing slow circles against your clit, neither of you in any hurry to climax, just wanting to be close, locked together. 

When you finally came the second time it was quiet, a warm pool of heat, a flush and shiver coursing through your bodies, small moans and hot breaths. You remained intertwined in your seated embrace for a few minutes, simply enjoying the moment, Adam’s finger trailing circles against your back as you carded your fingers through his hair, his eyes boring into yours with such open desire and emotion. Eventually you had to get up, reluctantly.

“Poor Moose, we really need to get going.” you both chuckled. The dog was slumped by the front door, eyeing you both suspiciously with one raised eyebrow and let out a small huff of breath that made his muzzle ripple. 

“Ok, quick shower, NO sex, then the longest walk ever. Deal?” Adam proposed.

“Deal”

You barely fit in your shower, causing any number of hilarious moments as you both squeezed in, awkwardly trying to wash whilst simultaneously bursting into peals of laughter as things got dropped, feet slipped, soap got into eyes and the shower head nearly broke from Adam’s huge shoulders hitting against it. It was evident that without some form of extreme contortion, and probably a broken shower, that you were never going to have sex in there even if you’d wanted to!

You eventually found yourselves dressed, composed, in a fit state to be seen in public - Moose was practically beating the door down. You’d put on a simple black cotton vest, black linen skirt and leather sandals, your big red sunglasses, hair down. Adam in yet another deliciously form-hugging tshirt, his baggy running shorts and Nike’s had tucked his hair under an AITAF baseball cap and put on his Ray-bans. 6 feet two of divine, standing in your doorway, dog leash in one hand, the goofiest grin slapped on his face as you grabbed your keys and purse and joined him at the door. 

“You look beautiful, I’m a lucky man,” he simply stated, then leaned down to kiss you. “Ok, are you ready?”

You chuckled.

“You make it sound like there’s a river of paparazzi camping outside my apartment ready to pounce”, you smirked. Despite the smallest trepidation, you really had stopped caring now. 

“Yeah, I’m being an ass. But you know… Just, checking.”

“Adam, I want this. And if Joe Moron wants to snap us with his cell phone, I really couldn’t give a shit any more. Let’s go. Moose is about to pee on my floor.”

You both giggled and with a final kiss, Adam opened the door and you set off on your walk. 

***

The sun was piercing, dappling the streets with spots of yellow, amber and flame as it burst through the leaves of the tall elms lining the Brooklyn streets as you made your way to Prospect Park. No sooner had you left your apartment than Adam had taken your hand in his, Moose having the decency not to physically drag both of you down the street despite his obvious elation at finally getting out of the apartment.

Your heart had been pummelling your chest for the first few minutes, you weren’t really sure what for- you knew there wouldn’t be cameras, that no one know or even cared that Adam Driver was in your crummy flat in Park Slope and at any glance in the street you both just looked like two completely ordinary people in Sunday casuals having a walk. As you got nearer the park, you finally relaxed and realised just how ridiculous your concerns had been. This is New York. Celebrities are a dime a dozen, no one is really that bothered.

You glanced at Adam now and again from the corner of your eye. Every so often he’d catch your gaze back and simply smile like a kid who’d gotten the ebay Christmas present ever, pulling you closer, leaning in for a kiss. He was truly spectacularly handsome, even more so because he really didn’t see it, and his strength and tall frame made you feel tiny, protected, but his humility and reverence of you, in how he listened, talked to you, was so open with you, made you feel a million miles tall. You were falling hard and fast and it was as terrifying as it was addictive.

At Juice Press on 3rd street Adam stopped and asked if you wanted a smoothie. You did, and he dove into the small cafe, leaving you on the sidewalk to hold Moose. You watched him through the window, towering over the glass counter as he figured out his order. You watched as the two guys behind the counter slowly recognised the tall figure in their shop, noticing the quick flash of grins and widening eyes in excitement, Adam lowering his head, bashfully, a small smile of acknowledgement. They chatted, one of the guys reaching out a hand to shake Adam’s, nodding enthusiastically at whatever Adam was saying. The two juices appeared on the counter, Adam paid quickly, also grabbing a water bottle. He glanced at you briefly and you flashed him a reassuring smile. 

_ Here we go _ , you thought. 

Suddenly the two guys were on the other side of the counter, and Adam was leaning in behind both of them as the taller of the two took his phone out and grabbed a selfie. More laughter. More hand shaking and Adam eventually wondered out, leaving the two baristas to watch him stroll up to you, hand you your juice and bend down to press a heated kiss to your lips, curling one arm around your waist with a small hint of possessiveness and pride, that left you breathless, even if it was childishly alpha of him.

“At some point I’ll get used to this” you laughed.

“I don’t even think I’ll ever get used to it” Adam laughed back, short and hoarse, as ever revealing his constant amazement at the attention, even now, after so many years. “It’s nice, honestly. I don’t mind it, like this. It’s just… sometimes I still wonder how I got here.”

“You worked hard. And you’re an incredible actor.” you offered, grinning.

“Yes. And… luck.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“And luck.”

He looked down at you as you reached the entrance to Prospect Park. 

“The luck keeps on coming, it seems.” his eyes blatantly meaning you. 

The crowds were thicker here at the tall gates to Brooklyn’s busiest park, people milling about. Not a few eyes had drifted your way, a few recognisance glances and whispers. You were sure you’d seen someone with their cell phone out as you’d approached the gates, pretending to take photos of the surrounding area. But without a care, as a group of teens cranked up a stereo and were putting on a breakdancing display in one corner, dog walkers swirled around you and the loud chatter of families and kids ripped across the gravel walkway, Adam scooped you into his chest, his strong arm wrapping fully around your waist and pulled you into the sweetest kiss under the mid morning sun. 

***

You walked for hours, finally letting Moose off his leash to run wild, throwing him sticks and balls, watching him chase alongside the edge of the lake, woofing at the ducks and geese milling about. Adam wrestled him on more than one occasion, the two of them in the grass, chasing each other, rolling around, Adam growling and Moose barking back, the pair of them goofing before Adam eventually scooped him up and hugged him like a giant baby.

You’d bought a newspaper from a kiosk and settled under the shade of a tall oak near the well house, Adam leaning against the tree, pulling you against his chest as you sat between his legs, back against his broad chest as he read the paper over your shoulder. 

When you flipped to the arts pages, down in the lower left corner was a small publicity shot for MEDEA accompanying the theatre listings for upcoming review, Adam’s serious, polished face stared up at you from the page, his co-actors behind him. You recognised the picture from when you’d met him at the photoshoot the previous week. It felt strange to see him there on the printed page, glossy and handsome in his tailored suit, as he sat arms curled around your waist in his sweat shorts and sneakers in the Brooklyn sun. 

“Who’s that hot guy?” You turned and spoke to Adam behind you, pointing at his photo. “You know him? Wanna introduce me? I think I like him.”

“Oh, who? That guy? With the ears?” You chuckled as he played along, you could barely see his ears under the slick, groomed hair in the picture. 

“Yeah. He’s pretty cute. So tall…”

“He’s probably an ass. I don’t think you should meet him.”

“No?”

“No way. He’s a terrible actor, and has ridiculous taste in music. And eats like a starving rhinoceros.”

“Oh. And I hear he dances like a banana.” 

“I can confirm that.”

You both giggled. Adam pulled you tighter.

“Oh well, I’ll settle for you then. I mean, second best is still okay right?” you queried, mocking.

“Second best agrees…. You know, uh, second best is wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Well… two things. First, he’s hungry. No surprise there…”

“Same. I could, to quote someone I know: ‘eat my fridge’.” Adam laughed out loud at that. Then softened.

“Secondly…”

“Yes…”

“Well, since you said you liked seeing me in a tuxedo, and second best is now competing for your attention against this asshole in the newspaper… Second best… ok,  _ I _ was wondering…”

You closed the paper and turned to look at him, he looked flustered for a moment, dropping the joke.

“Well… I’m invited to the Alliance for Young Writers Awards, uh, next week. I’m one of the hosts, uh, giving an award. I thought… um…”

You grinned from ear to ear watching him actually blush. 

“Would you like to come? To the awards? It’s… I mean, it’s just a small thing, but it’s… I’d like it if you came with me.”

“You’re asking me to be your date? At an awards ceremony? Like, date date.”

“Yes… I mean, if we’re doing this. Then… I get it if you’d rather not, it’s quite soon and, um…”

“Yes. Of course I’ll come. You big idiot. I said we’re doing this. And I’d like to support you.”

He beamed.

“Yeah? Ok, cool. Amazing. I’m always at these things alone, and it’s a cause I care about, I think you’ll enjoy it. A lot of writers, interesting people. Um… I’m… I’m really glad you want to come.”

“I’d love to.” He pressed a kiss into the top of your head. Moose was chasing a pigeon around the trees beside yours. You suddenly turned, curling into Adam’s legs and lifting your shades to your head to look at him properly.

“I… uh, I’ll need to get a dress and stuff. Um... I’m… how does it all work? I can’t really afford… urgh, this is embarrassing.” You felt awkward, this was a gulf you certainly couldn’t bridge and didn’t want to give the impression of sounding needy.

“I’ll talk to Hannah. Don’t even worry, we’ll get a dress for you, I can talk to Michael my stylist, we’ll get ready together. Please, don’t even think about it.”

“Thanks. I hate… having to rely on that, I mean… it’s just. Um, I don’t have the money, and it’s not really my…”

Adam shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“Hey, stop. It’s a dress. I don’t care, you’ll look beautiful and we will get you a dress and you don’t need to worry about it, and I certainly don’t think anything of it. Please don’t think this way.”

“It’s easy for you to say, but it is a thing… we’re poles apart on that front. The money...”

Adm frowned at you, pressing his face closer to yours.

“Yeah, and I was once exactly where you are and it’s where we all started out and where I would definitely be if I hadn’t been stupidly lucky and all sorts of circumstances taking place. I can afford to help you for an awards thing as my date, and it means nothing. It doesn’t mean I possess you or am more important in this relationship than you or any of that shit. It means I want my beautiful, talented girlfriend to be my date and I will help her get a dress because it is a gift to me that she joins me. I have money, I’m not ashamed of it, but I also don’t know what to do with it half the time and spending it like this is the best thing.”

“I…” 

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, blushing deeply.  _ Girlfriend _ . You were 35 acting like a 16 year old who’d just been asked to the prom, but for some reason it was important to hear the word slip so effortlessly from him. 

“I want to be able to treat you too. I want to take you for dinner, buy you things, feel equal in this relationship, but I could never…”

“You are my equal. More than equal. You’re strong, intelligent, funny, gorgeous, talented as fuck, on the brink of achieving something amazing that you worked your ass off for. You’re kind, you’re way better looking than me. You don’t dance like a banana.” he grinned, pulling you into his chest to give you a reassuring hug, sensing you were still anxious. “Money is money, I would never measure your worth, or I hope mine, by that. I could lose all of mine tomorrow, you could win the lottery. But you are you, inside. That doesn’t change.”

“Thank you.” you whispered.

“As for taking me on dates, etc. Whatever you are comfortable with I am comfortable with. I’m grateful for any minute I get to spend with you, and I’d love being treated by you, in any way. Please never feel like I wouldn’t.” 

“Deal. Agreed.”

You both basked in the summer heat for a moment, peaceful. Glad to have addressed another elephant in the room - it would not be the last time, but it was a start. Finally you extricated yourself from his grip, tummy rumbling.

“We need lunch. I’m famished. Where to?”

“Hmm, I was thinking Morgan’s Brooklyn Barbecue. Have you been? I never get to eat there, but it’s a favourite from way back when I got my first apartment and lived over in Clinton Hill. It’s like proper Tex-Mex, really, really good burritos. Sound good? Or...”

“Oh my god, yes, I could kill a burrito. Sounds awesome. And… let’s split the bill, please.”

“Yeah? Sure. We can do that.” He grinned at you, knowing this was important to you and not daring to argue for a moment. He pulled you up by the hand, calling Moose over to put him back on his leash. You wanted this day to never end as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you took the path back to the north entrance of the park, chatting away like no tomorrow, sharing so many stories: his student days, his past apartments, his first motorbike -  _ boy you wanted to explore that side of him more _ \- your embarrassing experiences waitressing when you were still a student, improv shows you both loved. 

It was blissful, intimate and at the back of your mind the slow buzz and thrill of knowing in a week you’d be “red carpet official”. It was sudden, especially on his part, equally terrifying, exciting, emotional, all at the same time. But you were secretly thrilled to bits, you knew how serious this was for him, for both of you and it made you hold him that little bit closer as you headed towards the diner.


	13. Dress to Impress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy and Adam become "red carpet official".   
> -  
> I don't own Adam Driver or anything related to him or his world. In this AU he is single.   
> _  
> This is a SMUT and FLUFF chapter. Totally indulging my dream of attending a red carpet event...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are dark and scary times out there everyone. I hope people are staying safe and well both physically and mentally and if you are out protesting I hope you are able to do so safely. It took me forever to write and finish this chapter because, frankly, the world out there is just so crazy I kept losing the energy and it never feels like the right time. I worried everything below is trivial in light of what's going on, but it is writing that is helping me through this, and reading fanfiction for me is an escape as well, somewhere safe to go when it all gets too much so I hope by continuing this story it is adding to a bit of fun and escapism. 
> 
> My posting this does not prevent or detract from the need to educate myself on the current situation unfolding in the US nor to work harder on my own end to be an ally, especially here in the UK where we have an equally systemic problem of race.   
> \-   
> Story wise, you might imagine, there's going to be some angst at SOME point, because hey - that's what makes a slow burn / good relationship fic all the more fun right...? RIGHT??? So whilst I will continue the development of our love birds new romance, and much more smut shall ensue, I want to pep it up with some challenges as well :D As ever your comments, kudos, feedback and kind words mean THE WORLD to me! Stay safe lovely Driver fans!

The relaxed bliss of the weekend with Adam crashed to a halt the Monday immediately after as you rushed headlong into a crazy week of non-stop meetings, rehearsals, work shifts and teacher training that had you pulling thirteen hour days. 

Adam had gone home on Sunday evening, despite both of you wanting to spend the night together you knew neither of you would have gotten any sleep if you had and you both had stupid weeks. 

Despite this, you both made a promise to try and see each other during the week, a commitment you were both keen to keep regardless of schedules and exhaustion. You also know Adam had asked Hannah to liaise with you ahead of the awards event on the Saturday - for which you were grateful as from your little experience of Hannah you knew she would do all the work and take on the stress and make the entire ordeal a little less terrifying. 

So that Wednesday afternoon you’d grabbed a couple of hours between your morning shift at the pound and your play readings in the early evening to meet Adam at the Ambassador Theatre where he was rehearsing.

When you got to the stage door there was a small group of giggling girls all huddled by a metal barrier chatting with a huge security guy - Hannah had given you his name “GUS” and told him you were coming. As you spotted them you slowed your walk, noticing the clutched pictures of Kylo Ren and excited buzz - fans. They seemed sweet enough and were waiting politely so you drew in a breath and adopted an “I work here” look, thankful you were clutching two coffees and still had your work ID tag round your neck so could pass as vaguely official, then strode up to the security man.

“Hey Gus, I’m Amy - I’ve got coffees for Hannah?”

“Yep, she mentioned, ok come on through.”

_ "Excuse me, oh my god, is that coffee for Adam Driver?” _

“We want to see Kylo Ren, is he coming out?”

“Do you know Adam?”

“Can we get a picture with Adam?”

The girls descended into fits of giggles and squeals as Gus opened the door and ushered you in. You wondered how long they’d been waiting there...

_ Deep breaths, Amy. _

Hannah was waiting for you at the end of the dark corridor leading to the backstage rooms which were already bustling with activity. She pulled you into a warm hug, her loud voice booing through the echoing halls.

“Amy! Great to see you again! How’s it going? Oh god, is that caffeine for me? Mamma needs it!”

“Yeah, Adam said venti mocha? I’m good!”

“Coffee’s the juice that keeps this baby going! So… we have some exciting event prep to sort for you! I pulled some of the style team, they’re all here - we need to sort Adam too and his schedule is ridiculous at the moment so I just had everyone hop over here.”

“Oh, er… ok. Um… you say exciting, I’m more terrified, haha! I literally have no idea what to expect. I mean, I just need a dress…” you looked bewildered and Hannah laughed into her coffee as you made your way through the crowded hall full of bags and props into a small rehearsal space. You could hear voices in the adjoining larger room, Adam’s familiar deep rumble and a couple of others - rehearsals were still in full swing you assumed.

“Oh girl, it is NEVER just a dress at these things. Yeah, Adam’s just wrapping up next door, come, come. Come and meet Michael, and you know AK already.”

There was an elaborate clothes rail filled with dresses and suits in thin plastic dust covers in one corner, several bags and accessories and a short guy in achingly cool streetwear going through all the clothes and deliberating with AK about colours and styles. This had to be Michael, the famous stylist…

He turned and gave you a shy grin, extending a hand.

“Hi, Michael Fisher. You’re Amy! Oh look at you, you are absolutely gorgeous! I’m Adam’s stylist, so nice to meet you.”

“Hi, thanks! Um, this looks fun. I’ve never been fitted for a dress before… except maybe at my cousin’s wedding… er…”

“Well, it’s pretty much the same - don’t sweat it. I’ve got some dresses in mind, but let’s try some stuff on and have some fun! I need Adam, Hannah is he ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll go grab him one sec.”

AK came and gave you a hug too, she was already fussing through a huge make-up box and discussing things with her assistant. It all felt completely surreal huddled in the back of a theatre surrounded by clothes and mess being fitted for an event. Then you realised, this is probably how they have to do it with people who’s diaries are insane. Adam wasn’t lying when he said it wasn’t as glamorous as you’d have thought. _ Organised chaos. _

Speaking of Adam, you heard his voice from across the room as he came in, that low timbre made your insides melt every single time. You turned towards the door he was coming through, drinking him in, and felt your face flush immediately. He was wearing a black tank vest, hugging his chest and abs in an almost sinful way, making his arms look even bigger, if that was possible. Black sweatpants and barefoot, they’d clearly been doing movement work next door, he was slightly flushed in the face, with beads of sweat on his forehead. Your mind flashed briefly to your bodies moving in the dark together, the closeness of his skin burning against yours,  _ get it together, Amy... _

“Hey you! Mmm, I missed you.” He pulled you out of your reverie, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “Sorry, I’m pretty sweaty and gross, I’ll go clean up quickly.” you were taken aback at his open affection in front of the room full of people, not that they didn’t know, it just felt freer than before, eliciting a twinge of joy in you that he felt comfortable now showing his feelings, not hiding.

“Hey Michael, AK. I’ll be two minutes, sorry…”

Hannah was already beside him, as if appearing from nowhere, with a towel, water bottle and change of t-shirt and was rattling a ton of information off at him. Damn she was efficient.

You stood looking a little lost and Michael came straight to your rescue.

“Ok, so we might as well get started. Hannah gave me your dress size -”  _ She did? How did she even? Is this woman a goddamn Jedi?  _ “But I’ll just get your proper measurements for the tailors.”

Michael was all business as you stripped to your tank and pants - no shame here, you were familiar enough with theatres which were a constant state of half-dressed actors rushing between costume changes, there was a makeshift curtain set up by the clothes rail and you headed there, Michael with his tape measure. He sized you up, took notes on his mobile, then started on his craft. 

“So, for events I tend to do Adam very classic, crisp lines, classic pieces, dark colours, elegant tailoring, very clean - this isn’t a black tie event, more cocktail casual so we’ll do a suit, but not black tux. I’m thinking for you, as a contrast, something colourful, poppy, intricate. It’ll look good on the cameras if we get maybe a light blue, hot yellow or pink against the navy.”

“Er… ok, I mean, I’ll go with whatever you say I’m… this is all out of my comfort zone to be honest.” You wanted to not feel so out of your depth but this felt so elaborate.

“You’ll love it, I guarantee, just relax, enjoy the moment” he grinned “so, what’s your style, like what do you like? Personally? I have some ideas from talking to Adam but I want to hear it from you…”

You didn’t think you even had a style, but somehow Michael put you at ease and after a few minutes he seemed to have grasped exactly what you liked, didn’t like and was starting to ruffle through all the things hanging on the rail and pulling out different dresses with an efficient and expert eye.

Adam was back, looking fresh faced and totally unfazed by the situation as he came up and rested his hand on your lower back gently, leaning in to kiss the crook of your neck.

“You ok?” he whispered gently, AK giving a sweet smile in your direction at his attentiveness. 

“Yeah, I mean… I’m not sure what’s all going on, but I know I am going to love whatever amazing dress I’ll be wearing.” you smiled. He squeezed your waist and whispered low into your ear.

“Whatever you wear, you’ll look delicious. I feel like I haven’t seen you for weeks...I’m… I’ve been having some  _ really _ dirty dreams about you.” he flashed you a cheeky smirk from the corner of his lips.

You blushed. Oh, horny Adam was something else. _What the hell?_ _Is it hot in here? I’m melting. Someone scoop me up._

Michael hollered an assistant to come over, he’d travelled with several other people you understood were an assortment of seamstresses, tailors and his assistant stylist. You were grateful for the distraction before you puddled into a mess on the floor. 

“Ok, how about you try these two on first, Jenna will check the fit and look while I work on Adam.”

“Sure” - he pulled a slinky, satin, electric blue gown off the rail with a low scooped back and spaghetti straps and delicate black lace detail around the bust. It was gorgeous, you didn’t even want to know the price tag, but had a pretty good idea when you saw it was Erdem.

Next was a 1940s cut chiffon dress with puff sleeves in a gorgeous flush pink, like a sort of vintage cocktail gown. This, you decided, was definitely fun as two girls fussed over you with pins, tape, notepads etc and AK came and started playing with your hair and more pins and clips and asking you all about your - embarrassingly simple - hair care routine.

Adam was busy chatting with Michael about shirt cuts, he was more knowledgeable than you imagined, clearly this was a side he enjoyed - which he would never admit - but he was always well dressed and this was such an important part of the job he did. Hannah came over, watching you with admiration as you slipped into yet another gown.

“You know, this is your first appearance together so for once there’ll probably be more attention on what you’re wearing and who you are than on Adam, and there’ll be lots of coverage - just so you’re… prepared. I mean, it’s a small event and very niche, but… the fans will latch on. This is the sort of thing the lifestyle columns will go nuts for.”

You took a deep breath. This was an unavoidable moment so you were choosing to focus on the positives, getting to wear a gorgeous dress and be fussed over more than in your entire life. You’d deal with the rest later.

“I know” you said, “we’ve talked about it. I just want to look good and support Adam. The rest is… well, it is what it is. Plus, from a practical viewpoint, this will help me too…” you gave a small smile to Hannah, wanting to show your savvy.

Michael and AK both nodded at that, you were learning the game quickly.

“Yeah, I mean Adam was like ‘work your magic’, spoil her” - Michael pipped in, “this will be really positive exposure for you, and it’s the right event too, it’s a serious art event, writers, theatre, very credible. You’re going to look gorgeous, both of you, the press are going to go NUTS about Adam finally having a date.” Michael’s eyes were twinkling.

_ Help... _

“Yeah” echoed AK, “I can’t WAIT to get you red carpet ready. I mean, your hair, the colour. Love it, I’m thinking a swooping top bun, I have these new jewelled pins from this small boutique in Williamsburg, I want one for your hair…”

The fussing continued as over in the corner Adam was being fitted for a navy suit jacket and being shown a number of shoes. He caught your eye and winked, a small grin on his face as you had your arms up over your head and Michael was adjusting something at your back. Adam mouthed simply “You’re beautiful” at you, before returning his attention to the suit. He stood so tall and handsome in the tailoring, his body moving with a languid elegance despite his ridiculous size, you were literally eating him up with your eyes.  _ Christ, he looks tasty, am I the only one here? It’s like a million degrees in this room. _

More dresses went on, came off, were fussed over. Adam seemed to be now rummaging through a load of suit pants, all whilst mainlining coffee. Hannah flitted between the two of you all whilst coordinating when you’d actually get ready for the event on the day and whirling calls to people via her bluetooth earpiece.

Suddenly Michael, who’d been pinning the sleeve cuff on the current navy number Adam was wearing, glanced up and stared at you, stopping dead.

“That’s the one! That one, yes, LOVE it. Oh you look perfect in it!” 

You looked down, it was a peacock coloured lace cut out cocktail dress, Oscar de la Renta -  _ I have dreamed of wearing something like this my whole life -  _ it was utterly stunning. You felt a million dollars wearing it even in your socks and with a hundred pins pressed into your back and bits of tape holding elements together as it wasn’t the right size. 

Adam walked over and squeezed your hand before Michael started pulling out accessories and AK came to talk with him about coordinating the outfits together, speaking in a language you didn’t understand.

“He’s right. It’s the one, you look beautiful.” Adam whispered at you. You glanced up at him, eyes dark and pupils wide, the form fitting suit jacket hugging his broad frame perfectly, the crisp white shirt giving him a look of cool authority that did nothing to dampen the heat between your legs. He brushed the bare skin of your back with his fingers, tracing circles slowly that only you would notice, dipping a finger lower to skim at the base of your spine through a thin mesh of gauzy fabric, causing you to shudder. From the corner of your eye you saw him lick his lips and bite the bottom one before his fingers trailed back to brush against yours. All the while Michael and AK swapped notes over an ipad and issued instructions.

“I have maybe another half hour before rehearsals start up again.” Adam leaned towards you, “if these two wrap it up quick. I can make an excuse… uh, do you have time?”

“Um… I don’t…”

Adam glanced at his watch - you didn’t know why but his wrist just looked ten times hotter wrapped in the thick metal strap of his Breitling chronograph… it was half past two. You would make time.

“I can do...lunch?” you offered quizzically.

“Sure. Lunch. That’s… what I had in mind.” Adam looked at you, hungrily. You were pretty sure he did NOT mean lunch.

***

Thankfully, Michael and AK were done, and as soon as you were free of the dress and back in your tank top and skirt and Adam was changed out of his suit they seemed to have somehow packed everything away with a ridiculous level of efficiency, with the tiny team of busy assistants lumbering bags, boxes and the clothes rails and suit bags out via the fire exit to a waiting set truck. 

No sooner had they said their goodbyes and confirmed times for coming to Adam’s for pre-event prep on the Saturday than you were alone with him in the small dusty room. The rest of the cast next door had clearly gone out for a break and apart from a few technicians milling about in the gallery upstairs busying themselves with… you weren’t sure nor did you care, it was just the two of you. 

Adam brushed a lock of your hair out of your face as you were stuffing your rolled up jumper into your bag. Your breath hitched and you curled into his palm on instinct, the skin soft and warm, and he was suddenly there, against you, firm hand splayed across the small of your back and lips barely an inch from yours.

“So uh, ‘lunch break’, huh? I’ve got… maybe 20 minutes? I…” he cleared his throat then dropped his voice even lower. “I could use a drink, it’s a  _ very _ hot day…”

His hand slid slowly up your side, grazing your ribs, the tip of his thumb coming to rest under the swell of your breast and as you looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes, he stroked the pad of his thumb across your nipple, through the thin soft fabric of your tank, feeling it pebble under his touch. 

Your cheeks caught fire.

“I’m… yeah a drink. Sounds good. I’m thirsty.” Your mouth was parched, your heart racing. Was this what 3 days absence did?

He didn’t need more confirmation than the hungry look in your eyes and took you firmly by the hand with an almost primal energy, pulling you towards a side door to the left of the small rehearsal platform marked “WASHROOM”.

_Oh, we’re doing this? Oh. Ok._ _Ooooooh kaaaay, yes, yes, yes!_ Your panties were almost soaked through just at the sight of Adam, eyes black with lust and muscles tense, dragging you to the small room, his face barely disguising how much he wanted you, needed to fuck you, right there.

He pulled you into the tiny room, a plain tiled bathroom with a toilet stall at one end and a washstand and mirror on the other. As soon as he’d pulled you in he turned you and pressed you up against the door, fingers of his left hand desperately searching for the bolt lock behind you as he leant down to claim your mouth in a heated kiss, his other palm sliding under your tank top, seeking skin contact with an urgency that bordered on feral. You pressed your small body into his, needed his leg between yours, needed the pressure of his thigh against you, something to rub your aching pussy against as again a ripple of white hot pleasure coursed through you, your core clenching with want. 

He moaned audibly into your mouth as his hand roughly pulled the strap of your bralet down, freeing a silky pert breast which he palmed with his large hand, fingers teasing at the sweet bud of your nipple, his tongue licking at your mouth, teeth claiming your lips with possessive bites, his cock, thick and hard grinding into you once you’d found the right position. He lifted you with his now free right arm, clean off the ground like you were made of feathers, his strong grip and the strained flex of his bicep under your palm causing you to whimper into his kiss. 

You didn’t think it was possible to be more horny than you’d been for the past month, but there it was, you felt utterly wanton, you wanted all the dirty things. Right now.

“Fuck Amy, I’m… I don’t normally… fuck, I’m so fucking hard. I… you have no idea. I’m…I...can I fuck you? Here? I just…” he was straining to even talk between bruising kisses and the jolts of pleasure you were giving him pulling hard at his hair and digging your nails into the soft nape of his neck, claiming him. 

“Yes, make me come, Adam.” You grazed his earlobe with the wet tip of your tongue before biting down, making him involuntarily thrust into you, a ragged breath pushing through his lips.

You reached your small hand between you to stroke him through the cotton of his sweatpants, another deep moan, then slid your hand into his pants, thumb grazing the head of his cock, sliding across the thick slick of precum, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, making sure your wrist also pressed against your clit which was begging for attention.

“I think about us doing this when I touch myself. When I’m alone.” you licked at the nape of his neck, just behind his ear and you felt his knees weaken as he growled. 

“Fuck, Amy.” 

He lifted you again, pulling you flush away from the door to spin you round, so your back was facing the mirror and he pushed you down on the edge of the washbasin stand, the swollen tip of his cock peeking from the top of his sweatpants where you’d been stroking him. He roughly pushed your skirt up as you tugged the sweatpants further down with your hand and one leg as he gripped himself, stroking his cock hard, lathing the glistening precum along his thick shaft as he continued his relentless kisses. It was feverish and messy and rough and dirty, but glorious. He practically ripped your panties off with one hand and they fell to the floor as a damp bundle as he fumbled for a condom in the pocket of his sweatpants.

You chuckled for a moment, in the chaos of your heated encounter, pulling a small laugh from Adam too.

“You really had one in your pocket? Were you planning this? You are a naughty...” you cupped his face, stroking his lips as he smiled against your hand, taking the short seconds to regain his breath as he looked at you, eyes still blown and dark, and slid the condom on. His cock was twitching against your thigh, both of you feeling completely reckless and frighteningly horny. 

“I… well, I didn’t want to get caught NOT being able to do this. I hope you don’t think…”

“Adam, please just...shut the hell up. You’re adorable” you chuckled, “I’m not thinking anything. I can’t even think. I don’t  _ want _ to think. I want to fuck. You. Right. Now.” 

That shut him up as you grabbed his fingers and slipped them between your legs, burning with an indescribable ache as he slipped two fingers between your folds, already so wet, and up to tease your clit, his mouth laying claim to your neck as he thrust, suddenly, hard and deep into you, causing you both to cry out. 

The sex was rushed and fumbled, but oh so hot. Half-formed words mumbled, breaths moaned, your grip on him drawing bruises from his pale skin and his teeth against your neck sharp. You both came in a few minutes, hearts pumping a million miles an hour as he shuddered against you, the heat of him pulsing inside you drawing a trickle of sweat from your temple which he lazily licked. 

You both laughed softly as you panted through the come down, your legs shaking as they remained wrapped around his waist and he softened and pulled out of you. Adam ripped off the condom with a brute force, but then immediately jogged to the stall to grab some toilet paper and carefully folded the condom into in in a neat little wrap, then dropped it in a trash can with care betraying his well-embedded military instinct for order and tidiness. You giggled, and pulled him close to you as he pulled his sweatpants up.

“I… that was… really hot.” he smiled, his face lighting up with that goofy, big kid look as he ran his hands through his hair, brushing it back from his eyes.

“It was. I.. didn’t quite expect that to happen.” you giggled. “I’m glad it did.”

“I mean… you look so hot, and I’m just… horny for you all the time right now. I’m - this is embarrassing, I feel bad I have to run, like now, I’m already late. It feels… dirty.”

“Adam, stop being silly, I’ve been thinking of this since the weekend. Are you kidding? I’m running late too. I can be very pro-dirty, if it’s like this and it’s with you.” You gave him a coy wink as you slid off the side of the basin stand and rearranged yourself quickly in the mirror. You were flushed like candy floss but didn’t care, you felt elated, desired. 

He pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping you into a tender hug - all the alpha, animal, primal replaced with a sweet giant. 

“Are you ready for Saturday? I’m really hoping it isn’t too soon, or too much with all the attention.” he was all concern.

“I’m ready. I’m actually, really looking forward to it. I’ll be a bit nervous, but I can handle it. And you know, maybe this is good for me, to see this bit of this world. I mean, if we’re going to be in this I need to get used to it. Also that dress is to die for, I can’t WAIT to put it on.”

“I can’t wait to take it off you.” Adam grinned into your neck. 

“Ha, you’re a massive dork sometimes.” you swatted him with your arm, smiling.

“Seriously though, I’m so glad you’re coming. I can’t wait to have you there, as my date. Makes it ten times more fun for me, more meaningful, if I can share it with you.”

He pulled back and looked you in the eye, all serious, his finger under your chin, placing a chaste flurry of soft kisses to your lips. “Until then, I am going to miss you. And probably have fucking dreams of this every night.”

“Me too.” You caught a glimpse of his watch. Shit. You were REALLY late. So was he. 

“Ok, we BOTH need to dash. I’ll see you Saturday?”

“Yes, I’ll get Hannah to send a car, about 3pm, to come to mine? If that’s ok?”

“Sure, perfect.”

“And Amy?”

“Yeah?” you had one hand on the bolt lock, loosening it open.

“WIll you stay at mine this weekend?”

“After the event?”

“I meant, the weekend. Like, Sunday too?”

“I… aren’t you working Sunday? I have to meet Jonathan…”

“I am working. But, if you wanted, we could hang out after? If it’s not… um, I just, like the idea of having time with you over the whole weekend. Even if we do our own thing in the day.”

Your heart sang.  _ YES PLEASE. _

“I’d love that. Of course I’ll stay. It would mean a lot.”

He didn’t need to speak, his face lit up enough to let you know how happy that made him.

*** 

The Friday night before the awards on Saturday Rose had come to yours after your rehearsal for takeout and wine, you felt you hadn’t had proper time with her for ages. Hyper aware of the likely explosion of attention you were going to be faced with following the event you wanted a dose of normal, to make sure she would be there as your voice of reason.

“It’s going to be really fucking weird.” Rose said, slurping a forkful of noodles into her mouth from the takeout box as she sat cross-legged on the large poof beside your couch. 

“Which part, the event? The cameras? The whole fucking thing?” you giggled, one eyebrow raised.

“Seeing your face on Just Jared the next morning, on the arm of a fucking movie star. That’s what. It’s just… surreal.”

“Ha, well… I’m not sure Just Jared is really interested in niche writer awards but yeah...I know! Oh god, it’s going to be so fucking weird. I’m in denial at the moment. Also… I’m… I feel bad.”

“Why? What for?”   
  


“Well. I feel like I’m the one living two lives now. Like, life is nuts at the moment and I’m trying to spend any free time I have with Adam because it’s hard, but I feel you and I are not hanging out as much, like I see you at work and that’s it. And, I want him, us, to spend time with my friends too. It’s… just weird this “that world” / “this world” thing.”

“Well… you know Jonathan and I both get it, I mean if I just started dating someone I really liked, I’d be AWOL for a bit…but… I’m pretty glad you said it. I miss you, but I also want to see you with him, like right now it’s like a thing that isn’t really happening and all I know is whatsapp chats and… your secret Adam life.” She wasn’t angry, just resigned. “I want us to be able to hang out too, you shouldn’t have to choose between people. I mean I totally get it, you need to make time for him. I’d be the exact same, but if you can find a way for us to get time all together that would be awesome.”

“I know. It’s jarring for me too. Trust me. I… when this event is done, I’ll sort for us to all hang out. And Jonathan. I’ll talk to him.”

“In the meantime, show me that dress again? What shoes are you wearing?”

“Oh god, Michael sent me some moodboard thing, hang on.” you reached for your phone to show Rose. “I mean… I think this whole outfit cost half a year’s wages for me…” you rolled your eyes.

“D’you get to keep any of it?”

“I… I don’t know? I have no idea how this works… I’m not asking! Hahah!”

“Well, if you do get to keep them, just remember we have the same shoe size. I’m just saying, if you’re not bothered about Louboutins, I’ll take them off your hands any time.” She grinned, reaching for the spring rolls. 

***

The car arrived bang on time at 3pm outside the door to your apartment to take you to Adam’s. You had your overnight holdall and tucked in the side pocket, a small gift you had picked up for Adam. A friend of Jonathan’s worked for a second hand bookstore in the East Village and had managed to locate a copy of Blue Streak through his network, a collection of poems written by military veterans you remember Adam had mentioned wanting to get his hands on. This copy was signed by the editor, herself a WW2 veteran and author and had an exclusive poem by her written by hand on the inside sleeve. It hadn’t been too expensive, but would have been hard to track down without Jonathan’s contact. You knew it was special and it was important for you to mark this moment in a small way. 

When you arrived at Hicks Street, Adam’s apartment was a cacophony of activity. As ever Moose was the first to greet you when the door opened, jumping up at your knees and wagging his tail furiously. Adam followed closely behind, hair wet, face freshly shaven and smooth as anything, his black t-shirt damp around the neck, scooping you into a kiss, momentarily forgetting anything else was going on and just holding you in the doorway, pressed to his chest, smiling against your lips. 

“Hi you” you returned his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. “That felt like the longest three days.”

“Mmmm… same here. Are you ready? We’re in the games room. You want some coffee or anything?”

“I’ll just have some water. Are you  _ having a hair cut _ ?” you looked at the hair salon style wrap draped around Adam’s shoulders. 

“Oh, it’s just a trim. Welcome to the circus.” He grinned, running his long fingers through his damp locks. “Come, I’ll grab some water.”

You walked through the apartment to the games room which had become a makeshift salon. Michael was in one corner, drinking a coffee and reading off his iPad, his assistant using a mobile steamer on Adam’s suit hanging on a display rail. AK was sorting out a make-up prep stand and in the middle stood a mobile hair wash stand and two huge metal suitcases open, exploding with products, hair-dressing equipment, all sorts. A veritable team of assistants were busy doing… things. Hannah greeted you - as ever on her phone - a huge travel coffee thermos in hand.

Adam handed you a glass of water and stepped back into the chair by the mobile hair sink, where an assistant resumed trimming his hair. 

_ So this is how they do it, huh? It’s like a manic explosion.  _

AK immediately came over, in full work mode, a cheeky glint in her eye.

“Right, here goes. Let’s get you prepped! I’m going to do a quick wash and trim, then Lisa here will give you a blow dry and style. We’re going to do a wavy updo, I got some of those pins I was talking about, to style at the back. We’ll do your nails too.” She fussed about you, grabbing you a gown and introducing you to the small army of style assistants in the room. 

You felt like the Queen of Sheba, manicure here, hair washing there, in between people buzzing about, buffing, polishing, hair-spraying. As Lisa styled your hair, AK worked her magic on Adam, using what felt like a hundred different products to tame the black mop of jaw-length curls into that smooth, delicious, lion’s mane of ebony waves, before starting on a plethora of face creams, foundation (so weird!), eye cream, the works. In between the madness, Adam and you chatted about your week, cracking jokes with the team - everyone seemed enamoured at the pair of you as a couple, Adam barely disguising his own excitement, reaching for your hand constantly, checking on you, reaching over to you to steal a kiss when he could, before AK barked at him to stay still - eliciting more laughter. 

It was, admittedly, great fun. Someone had put a playlist on through the speaker system, pumping out old motown tunes, there were plenty of jokes and laughter. It was somehow glamorous, but totally not at the same time, Moose’s chew toys everywhere, Adam’s gym equipment pushed against the wall, a stream of takeout coffee cups on every surface. 

Finally the dress, a pair of incredible heeled Prada shoes, a set of small, delicate shells shaped pearl earrings and a cream clutch bag. You felt like a million dollars and barely recognised the swan reflected back at you in the mirror, catching Adam’s gaze - he had transformed into the red carpet god you had had way too many delicious dreams about. 

By 6.30 pm you were both ready and with the efficiency you still couldn’t get your head around AK and Michael and both their small army were packed, tidied, ready to go, the room tidied and looking barely touched. Hannah had arranged dog care for Moose as she would be joining you at the event, behind the scenes. 

As you waited for the car to arrive, you stole a couple of moments with Adam in the small library alcove room off the side of his kitchen. He took your hand as you stood close to him, breathing in the scent of his cologne, something musky, a hint of bergamot. With his thumb he traced the line of your jaw, his hazel eyes boring into yours, warm, smiling, he seemed even more impossibly tall in the dark navy suit, it fitted him perfectly, leaving you weak at the knees. 

“I’d kiss you right now, but AK will kill me if I mess your make-up before we get there” he chuckled, his hand stroking your arm. “You’re so beautiful, you look incredible.” He smiled. 

“I can’t believe how amazing AK is! I’m... a bit nervous, I have to admit.” you said, reaching up around his neck, running your fingertips through the soft waves at the nape of his neck, your other hand squeezing his, feeling him brush your knuckles in reassurance.

“I know. It’ll be fine, I promise. Just stick with me. You’ll knock them dead.”

“Are people going to be yelling questions at you?”   
  


“The photographers usually just shout directions, you know ‘look this way’, ‘to the left’, Hannah just points me where to look so I don’t miss anyone. But yeah, they’ll probably ask both of us questions. They’ll ask who you are. They’ll ask if you’re my date - as in romantic date. They’ll want to know everything.” He replied calmly, with total honesty.

“Well, I’m not going to lie if they ask me, but I don’t want to be drawn into questions. Tonight is not about me.”

“Oh, believe me, quite a bit of tonight, at least outside the event itself, will be about you. But, uh, that’s ok. It’s like we talked about, ok? I’m not giving them anything more than they need to know”

“Same. Ok. Well…”   
  


“Just do what you feel comfortable with. You’re under no obligation to answer anything. But honestly, it won’t be too crazy, it’s not like a big premiere or anything, just the press pass photographers.”

  
  


“Ok. Ok. To be honest, I’m mostly worried I’ll trip on the goddamn carpet. I never wear heels” you smiled. 

He grinned back at you, tucking a couple of loose wisps of your hair behind your ear, then reached your hand up to place a kiss against your knuckles. “That nearly happened to me in Venice a couple of years back. Coming off the vaporetto boat for a reception. It’s all chic until you get to the mooring and misjudge your step getting off…It might be a lagoon, but I swear to god there were actual waves and that stupid boat was rocking all over the place.”

You laughed at that, loving how he always had a way of diffusing the nerves, of normalising everything. 

“So, before we go, I have a little something for you.”

“For me? What? What’s the occasion?” His face softened, his smile sweet. 

“Just, I guess, this moment. Maybe it’s a little cheesy, but if we’re going to be ‘official’ - not to sound like high school or anything - but I just wanted to get you something.” 

“Amy, you shouldn’t have!”

“Well… tough shit. I did.” You went to your bag and dug out the small package with the poetry book.

When he opened it, he took a sharp intake of breath, biting his bottom lip as he opened the cover and traced his finger of the inscription inside. His smile widened as he looked from the book to you, his face in open wonder.

“This is so incredibly thoughtful. And special. I’m… thank you so much. You’re, fucking amazing.”

“You’re welcome” you said, with a hint of pride. 

“No, really. I’m… this means a lot. I’m…”

He looked genuinely moved and pulled you closer, hand sliding down to your lower back, a hunger in his eyes flaring up as he took you in, then without hesitation leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

“I really don’t care what AK says. I want to kiss you so badly.” he whispered as you surrendered completely to his touch. 

“No complaints here…” you mumbled into him as he deepened the kiss, teasing at your cherry pink lips with his tongue, his mouth warm and tender and sweet. 

“Car’s here!” came a shrill shout from the hallway, just as well as your lipstick was already half smeared across Adam’s bottom lip, which he quickly swiped with his thumb, a guilty look on his face like a naughty child.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” He took your hand in his and led you out the door, the pair of you gliding down the cool of the hallway like a vision from an old black and white Hollywood magazine cover, into the night. Hannah and AK exchanged glances behind you.

“He’s cooked as a goose.” Hannah smirked.

“Yep. A goner.” AK agreed, nodding as they both giggled. 

***

There were maybe 25 photographers lined up behind a barrier along a red carpet leading to the entrance of Carnegie Hall. The car dropped you and Adam just around the corner where a small car pool had lined up, ushered by a line of valets and security under a small reception tent. In sight behind the photographers was a small crowd of fans and onlookers, nothing crazy but enough that your heart was now racing audibly in your throat. As people were coming out of their cars they were being held back to allow a steady stream along the carpet where an event sponsor’s photocall backdrop was set up for the cameras. A throng of official venue managers milled about with ID tags and small radios. 

As the car stopped and the driver got out to open the door, Adam gave your hand a small squeeze, turning back to shoot you a reassuring smile.

“Let’s go.” he grinned.

“Yes, let’s do it.” You swallowed, gathering your clutch and adjusting the hem of your dress so it wouldn’t catch on the way out. Hannah -  _ where the hell did this woman come from every time?! _ \- was immediately by the door as you stepped out of the car and shot you a big smile. They’d been in the car behind yours.

“You’ve got this Amy, you look gorgeous. Just enjoy yourself.” - you shot her a wink and mouthed a thank you.

You stepped onto the pavement. Adam immediately took your hand in his, making sure you were out of the car ok as there were a couple of steep steps. A security man immediately took Adam by the elbow and guided the pair of you to the edge of the carpet where a small pool of other attendees were waiting and chatting. You took in the moment, the buzz, the atmosphere, the sheer glamour. This wasn’t even a big event, and nothing approaching the Oscars but you’d never seen so much concentrated glamour and glitz and it felt surreal being in the midst of it, part of it.

“Oh, Mr. Driver - nice to meet you.” An older gentleman in front of you, with thinning hair and a more traditional suit and bow tie, had turned around and was extending a hand to Adam to shake. “Calvin Trillin, the New Yorker. It’s nice to meet you. I believe you’re presenting this evening is that correct?”

“Oh, yes, Adam. Hi. Nice to meet you, I’m very familiar with your work. Yes, I’m, uh, presenting the short fiction category. Uh, this is Amy, my girlfriend.”

You reached to shake his hand. You’d been reading this guy’s arts column for years, what a great distraction from your nerves. Adam’s hand reached round to your lower back, he was beaming at you with adoration.  _ Enough now or I’ll be tomato red by the time we get to the photos. _

“Amy Myers. Nice to meet you, I really enjoy your column, your recent piece on arts funding for non-profit theatre was refreshing.” 

Calving shook your hand vigorously -  _ nothing wrong with stroking all the right egos _ you thought!

“Why thank you. You work in theatre?”   
  


“Yes.” You responded boldly, “Actually, I’m currently producing a show with Perry Street Theatre at the moment. Short plays, coming later in the fall.”

The security man was talking into his radio and about to move Calvin and his partner along down the red carpet. 

He smiled at both of you, shaking your hand and Adam’s again,

“I’d love to hear more. Come find me at the reception after, we can talk.” and off he walked.

Adam squeezed your side, leaning down to place a small kiss on your cheek. 

“See? You’re owning this.” 

“I’m feeling pretty good right now.” you grinned at him, confidence bolstered by the small exchange, feeling yourself slip into a place where you could really enjoy this moment. 

“You  _ should _ feel good. Also, did I mention how completely sexy you are?”

“You didn’t. But feel free to mention it as many times as you want.” you giggled.

You heard a flurry of noise, Calvin and his wife had moved on from the photocall wall, it was your turn to face the cameras. Hannah appeared, as if by magic again, at your side, touching up your hair, brushing down the side of your dress, brushing a piece of lint from Adam’s shoulders, then the security man gave you a small nod and you stepped onto the carpet.

The cameras went crazy, one flash after another, a flare of brilliant white light and a flurry of noise.

_ “Adam. Mr Driver, over here.” _

_ “Adam, to the left. Can you stand to the left.” _

Adam strode down the carpet confidently, his firm large hand enveloping yours in a tight grip, his other hand in his pocket. You squared your shoulders, took a deep breath and smiled up. As the cameras pinged, he held you closer, sliding his hand around your waist. You glanced up at him and he gazed down at you, beaming.

_ “Adam, who’s your date? _

_ “Adam, smile for us please, can you - to the right.” _

_ “Over here Mr. Driver.” _

_ *flash* _

_ *flash* _

_ “Adam, who’s your friend? Are you dating?” _

_ “Who’s the lady?” _ _   
  
_

You just smiled, trying to quiet the thump in your chest, the sweat of your palms. Was Adam going to speak? Should you? He stroked his palm against your back and gave you a small knowing smile.

“I don’t want to speak for you, but they’re not going to let it go.”

“Ok.” you smiled back at him. The cameras and shouting just got crazier.

“Hi, I’m Amy Myers.” - at that the noise erupted.

_ “Amy, how long have you been dating Mr Driver?” _

_ “Amy where are you from?” _

_ “Adam, where did you meet” _ _   
_ _ “Can we get both of you over here” _

_ “Who are you wearing?” _

You didn’t even know where to look, Adam was calm, not kowtowing to the yells but just calmly glancing at each camera in turn. After a couple of minutes, he turned to you, taking you by the elbow, his look tender. 

“Ok, I’m done. Shall we go in? I think they’ve got enough. There’s still the journalists inside…”

“Sure. I’m very happy to move on now…”

He took your hand again and gave a brief wave at the cameras.

“Thank you. See you.” he said firmly and you walked into the hall.

***

No sooner had you got into the hall, where a drinks reception was set up in the lobby outside the auditorium, than you were met by a woman in a cocktail dress with a microphone beside a camera man. Hannah had briefed you, this would be PBS covering the event for their culture programming.

“Adam Driver. Man of the hour, hi, Jasmine Riley for PBS. And this is…”

Adam looked at you, not wanting to speak on your behalf.

“Amy Myers. Nice to meet you. I’m a theatre producer.” That was as much as you were prepared to give, you knew the rest would be sussed out by attendees later. This was about Adam’s work tonight, and the awards and writers. Not about you. 

“Nice to meet you too Amy. So, Adam. You’re known for your efforts to bring theatre and new writing to military audiences through your work with AITAF, your non-profit organisation Arts in the Armed Forces. Is this what drew you to support the Young writers awards...?”

The interview was brief and, thankfully, focused on work. This was definitely not a fluff and gossip audience - you breathed a sigh of relief.

A bell rang, you were being ushered into the theatre. 

“That went ok, right? Are you ok?” Adam asked you as you walked in, taking your seats in the front row where the other speakers and award hosts were all placed.

“It was fine. I’m fine. I’m enjoying it actually. I’m… just thanks for inviting me. I, uh, I’m really happy to support you at this.”

“I’m glad. I’m really happy you’re here, really. It means so much to me.” He sat down, folding his long legs under him - this never ceased to make you laugh - putting down his glass of champagne under the seat as you dropped your clutch and settled in. You introduced yourself to the guy beside you before realising it was Zac Posen, the fashion designer.  _ OMG _ you internalised, going with the half-manic smile instead -  _ classy, Amy, classy. _ People were still milling about, patting Adam on the shoulder in recognition, he shook a couple of hands of people you vaguely recognised, before introducing you. The consummate gentleman. Then the lights went down and the event began. 

In the dark Adam clutched your hand to his, his thumb grazing your knuckles, exchanging glances with you in the dark, his eyes shining. He was so handsome you could will the room to disappear and just bury yourself into his body, hungry and desperate to take him home and run your mouth across his jaw, lick the skin of his neck, run your hands down his chest under that crisp white shirt, feel his lips against your thighs. All thoughts that kept a heat between your legs burning throughout the event, heightened even more when he took to the stage, giving an impassioned talk about the importance to writing to give voice to the unheard, his experiences in the military. His tall frame, strong body, that soft mouth, his expressive hands always moving, just his ridiculous size fitted perfectly into the navy suit, those soft locks of hair you’d gripped hold of in the night. 

Out in the hall, the photographer from Vanity Fair processed his red carpet images ready to send to the online desk for the rolling instagram coverage and news feed. Aside from a couple of big donors to the magazine who were in attendance, the big news of the night, the big draw, was always the celebrity attendees, Adam Driver being tonight’s A-ticket. 

He halted on one particular photo, Adam and his date - the photographer checked his notes -  _ Amy Myers _ . He’d texted his colleagues on the social media desk to dig some research, ‘a theatre producer’ was all he’d gotten from the lady at PBS. The photo was perfect. Adam and the girl stood so close, his arm wrapped fully around her, she was beautiful, a small almond shaped face and shock of auburn, red hair, the pair matching perfectly in contrasting navy and cerulean blue; but it was the gaze that caught the photographer’s eye. They couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Adam’s face was beaming with pride, the man notorious for rarely smiling - especially not like that, and especially not at these events and on photo calls. No one knew who this woman was, and it was unclear how long they’d been dating, but that right there was a look of pure, unadulterated love. After a few quick edits on his iPad he hit send. Adam Driver was officially  _ off  _ the market.    
  
  



	14. Never Trust the Press

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy experiences the celeb world up close and personal for the first time. And it isn't all pretty...
> 
> (quick recap on last chapter - Amy and Adam attend their first public event together, effectively a "red carpet official" moment as a couple, after a long day spent in the hands of stylists and groomers. The paps are there, and Amy makes some useful contacts...)  
> ***  
> There is angst in this chapter, but fear not also plenty of SMUTTY SMUT SMUT and heart-warming fluff! I can't help it, there's too much real world angst right now to dwell too much on the bad... It's also a beast of a chapter because you all know I LOVE my detail!!!  
> ***  
> This won't be the end of the angst, I have some more story ideas up my sleeve for future events, but all in good time.  
> ***  
> Still don't own Adam or any part of this world. As ever, when I mention places or events or things I try to use real places.  
> ***  
> This is an AU set sometime recently, where Adam is single and I draw as much as I can on things I know, or moments that are or have existed.  
> **  
> I figured out how to embed an image, so I gift you a wee mood board!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your amazing continued support for this story, your comments, feedback and kudos are the juice that fuels my fire, just like Adam needs his caffeine! I cannot stress enough how incredible it makes me feel that you are enjoying this silly escapist fluff that I really did start as as means of having a distraction from lockdown hell. I swear I could keep writing this forever now hahaha! As ever if you want to suggest any possible plot ideas or anything, let me know! THANK YOU THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart!

The event rattled on pretty swiftly, whizzing through a total of 16 awards and a blissfully brief closing remarks speech with a legacy video montage of a veteran writer who had passed away in the past year. No sooner had the lights dimmed in the room at the close of the ceremony than the auditorium emptied as guests spilled into the lobby for drinks and canapes. 

Adam was immediately greeted left, right and centre by a flock of well-wishers and grandees wanting to say hello or shake his hand and some of the winning student writers who wanted a photo with him. He didn’t leave your side for a moment, hand on the small of your back as if glued there as he introduced you to a swirl of people that he knew, or many that he didn’t. The crowd was gracious, friendly, intelligent, your head a jumble trying to remember names and pick up contacts as you went.

You’d chatted considerably with the arts journalist Calvin and his wife over a glass of Champagne - securing his guarantee to attend your show’s opening night and a review slot in The New Yorker when the time came. You could barely believe it - stealing a moment in the bathroom quickly to text Jonathan and your PR rep at Perry Street. 

When you’d emerged you found Adam on a plush red sofa, bottle of Johnny Walker in one hand and two glasses in the other, deep in conversation with two women you recognised as co-presenters of one of the awards, both writers. You ended up sharing the bottle between the four of you and some other guests as a DJ struck up in a corner somewhere. You exchanged a good deal of stories and laughs with the two women, culminating in the three of you dancing in a corner to Mark Ronson as Adam sat quietly on the couch, smiling with that slightly lopsided grin of his, all teeth and dimples and liquid golden eyes as the night dragged on. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you swayed along to the music, a lock of your hair coming free of its pin, freckled cheeks flushed pink. Eventually Hannah and AK joined in and even Adam made it to his feet, curling his arms around your waist, carrying the remainder of the whisky bottle aloft as he sang along - with all the wrong words - to the tunes, peppering your neck and hair with kisses and squeezing your waist. 

Eventually as it approached midnight, fun aside, you wanted to go home. Mostly because trying to resist Adam’s smile, his darkening, hungry eyes and his increasingly heated looks was becoming harder and harder. From the glances he was exchanging with you as his body pressed flush against yours in the crowd you could see he felt the same urgency, his hands increasingly searching for your hips, the curve under your breast when no one was watching, the nape of your neck as you moved to the music. You wanted to loosen the tie around his neck, needed his lips on your skin, wanted him naked. The sooner the better. 

You’d had the option of staying over at the nearby Pierre Hotel but both of you were keen to get home and Moose would be being dropped home by the dog sitter early in the morning so you made your polite goodbyes and headed to the car that was waiting for you. Hannah would organise the collection of clothes etc in the morning.  _ I could sooo get used to this level of life management _ , you thought.

As you stepped out of Carnegie Hall to the waiting SUV, your heel caught suddenly in a crack in the stone of the steps and you tripped forward slightly as your shoe slipped off your foot.

“Shoot, ouch!” you giggled, mostly out of surprise. Adam was immediately behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you as you rubbed your ankle. 

“Thanks, I didn’t see the crack in the dark, I’m really not used to heels as high as this.” you smiled at him as he held you. 

No damage was done, you were more worried about breaking the shoe and after slipping it back on and collecting your dropped clutch bag you stepped into the open doors of the car. 

Somewhere in the dark a lone paparazzi snapped as you tripped, zooming in on Adam’s concerned expression and your falling figure. _ This’ll make a good story, _ he thought.

***

The car ride was thankfully short in the traffic-free, late night streets, Adam and you both fizzing from the energy of the evening, trying your hardest to keep your hands politely to yourselves in the back of the car, and failing entirely. Adam’s wide palm spread flush across your leg, his thumb tracing circles through the gauzy lace of your dress against the soft muscle of your inner thigh, his eyes betraying him, face so close to yours his breath tickled at the hairs on your nape, drinking you in with a look of raw lust. You reached out to trail your fingers from his knee, up his leg to tease your fingers over the fly of his dress pants and swallowed heavily when you felt him, getting hard and straining against the cotton, his breath hitching at the heat of your fingers and the tip of his tongue slipping over his plush lips as he uttered an almost silent moan. You returned your hand to rest upon his in your lap, squeezing hard as he held your gaze, burning heat to your skin with eyes as golden as the whisky swirling in your veins.

Somewhere between the door to his building and his kitchen his shoes, your heels, his tie, his shirt, your dress, his jacket, his pants and your bra had disappeared. His wide hands were splayed across your waist, broad, powerful back curled over to pull you completely in against his body, his thick, strong arms pinning you to his chest, your fingers teasing in his hair, across the hard muscles of his back, nails dragging down across his deltoids as he licked your lips open, teasing them with his teeth. 

He slid a leg between yours as his mouth worked its way in wet open kisses along your jaw, lapping at the dip of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, taking a hardened nipple between his lips and biting gently as you let out a soft cry into his hair, his thigh providing brief relief as it pressed against your slicked, aching core. He was hard as a rock under your hand as you palmed him through his black briefs, your thumb skimming over his swollen head, needing him, clawing at his skin. 

_ “So hard... is that for me?” you breathed. _

_ “Mmm hmm, you do this to me... Jesus, Amy. I can barely control myself around you…” he bit down on your bottom lip, sucking it raw. “So hot…” he panted in your ear. _

_ “You have no idea what that suit has been doing to me all evening…”  _

_ “Oh yeah?” _

_ “Mmmm…” you let out a small, high pitched cry, your clit was throbbing, aching for him, panties soaking as you rubbed against his thick thigh. _

_ “Amy, touch me…Please” he could barely get the words out. _

He groaned audibly as you pushed down his briefs, fingers wrapping around his cock as he clumsily tugged them off with his foot. His lips and tongue explored every inch of your flushed pink skin as you stroked him, pulling moans from deep within his chest, his hand seeking out the thin strap of your panties and literally ripping the fabric off, leaving shredded lace on the kitchen floor.

In a move like water he lifted you off the floor with one arm and, with your slender legs wrapped tight around his waist, the wet heat of your pussy slippery against the soft hairs of his belly and his cock grazing your thigh he carried you up the stairs in the half-darkness of his moonlit apartment, moaning your name between kisses as you breathed in the heady scent of his arousal. 

Your skin was on fire as he lay you down over his sheets, your hair coming loose from the hair pins as you hit the pillow, his hands sliding over your skin reverently as his cock twitched, long and thick between your thighs, a glistening trail of pre-cum sticky against your skin. His long fingers trailed through the damp curls between your legs, your pussy soaked and tingling as he tenderly grazed the delicate rosy nub of your clit with the pad of his index finger, a jolt of electricity whipping through your body even as he barely touched you. 

He literally  _ growled _ at the sight of you, his chest aching and cock almost painfully hard. He took his length in his hand, sliding his fist long and slow along his shaft, squeezing the head as he gasped, needing some relief as he stroked your clit with more urgency. A thick dribble of pre-cum dripped down his fist as he jerked himself off, the long fingers of his other hand coated with slick from your arousal, every nerve in his body wired with want. He dipped one, then two fingers inside you as his lips formed the softest smile, watching you as your eyes widened with pleasure, your lips swollen and rose red from his kisses, your fingers curled around his wrist. 

You lost all thought as you looked at him, burning with desire, your mind fogging as you watched him stroke his thick cock, his breathing shallow and fast as he watched you through heavy, hooded eyes, barely able to control himself as a slow bubble of pleasure built up inside you, his thumb rubbing your sweet swollen clit as his fingers pumped deep and steady. You pulled him down, needing his tongue, his mouth, needing him close to you, his body crowding over yours, needing to feel his strength, his size, the weight of him on you, revelling in how small you felt between his arms.

Silently you reached over to the bedside drawer, knowing where things were now in the familiar room and as you did he slipped a third finger inside you, teeth marking delicate bites to the soft skin behind your ear as you cried out. You grabbed a condom and reached between you to slide it down his length, his heart racing against your chest. Slowly you guided him between your thighs, feeling the tip of him tease against your slick folds, his hands caressing and pulling your legs up to rest them over his shoulders, pushing you back into the mattress and leaning in to kiss you fully as he thrust deep and full inside you. 

You couldn’t get enough of each other, holding each other so tight and close, skin against skin, lips on lips, his thrusts deep and achingly slow, the press of his lower belly against your clit igniting a fire inside you, your breasts flush against his chest and his arms wrapped fully around you as he drove inside you. He could feel you clench around him, every sensation heightened and delicious, every kiss of your lips setting his heart alight and driving him close to insanity. Your breath became erratic as desire overwhelmed everything and you gripped him, pulling him to you harder, biting into his shoulder, breaking skin. 

“Faster, Adam. Please. I’m close.” He barely needed encouragement as he lifted his head just enough to lock eyes with you as he pumped harder and faster into you, finding your clit with his thumb as he sensed you close to orgasm, aching to see you come undone in his arms, wanting you to see how much pleasure you gave him. 

“Look at me Amy, I want you to watch me when you make me come.” he begged, voice deep and breathy.

When you came, his name fell off your lips like a mantra, your body a furious coil of fire, your thighs trembling. You held him in your gaze, eyes wild and he tipped over the edge. He came, hard, seconds after you, head snapping back as he spilled thick, hot ropes of cum inside you, the force of his orgasm taking him by surprise. He scooped you up to his chest, pulling you down into his lap in a seated lotus position as his cock throbbed and pumped deep inside you, feeling every pulse of your cunt around him as your orgasm continued to ripple through your body, pressing desperated kisses to your lips as he panted your name in breathless whispers. 

***

You’d fallen asleep, your body ruined, drifting off to the feel of his fingers playing in your hair, his plush lips pressed to yours, legs entwined beneath the covers, his soft voice repeating in your ear a lilting litany of sweet nothings as you held him, your heart aching from wanting him so much. 

***

As a sliver of sunlight sliced across the tangled sheets the following morning it caught your face, the light flickering against your closed eyelids and waking you gently. Adam’s arm was curled tightly around your waist, legs pressed against yours, his lips parted and pillowy against your shoulder, little snores rumbling from his chest. His morning erection was like a hot stone against your lower spine and he muffled something indecipherable into your hair as you reached your hand behind you and rested it against his skin, curling even further into his body and smiling sleepily, feeling his own smile reflecting yours against your skin, enjoying the utter perfection of waking up beside this beautiful, beautiful man. You needed to pee, even though you really didn’t want to get up at all.

“Mmmm...Don’t get up...just stay here...beside me.” he whispered, feeling you move, his hand stretching to cup a breast in his palm, thumb stroking softly against your rosy nipple. You hummed in pleasure, resting your hand on top of his and curving your neck to let his lips touch your skin. 

“I have no intention of leaving, but I do need to get up for a couple of minutes to pee.” you chuckled, wriggling under his arm. 

“Nope. No peeing.” he muttered.

“That’s really not a solution you’re going to enjoy in the long run” you laughed softly.

“Hmmmmph. Ok. Go pee. Super quick.” he mumbled again, cute little grumpy sounds, “Then I want you back in my bed. Stat.”

“Ok… sir” you giggled.

“‘Sir, yes sir’, is the correct answer when addressing your superior.” He mumbled against your neck, teasing now, his fingers stroking your ribs where he knew you were ticklish.

“Oh, my  _ superior _ is it now? Really,  _ Lance Corporal Driver _ ? Um... Semper Fi!” you chuckled at him, squirming with giggles now as his teasing made you need to pee even more.

“That’s better. Good girl. Ooh-ra!” he mumbled again, eyes still closed but a wide grin on his face as he nuzzled even further into the nape of your neck. 

You turned to face him in the tumble of sheets, twisting in his grip as you caught his lips in a tender kiss, prompting his eyes to flicker open as he responded in kind, mouth sweet and soft.

“I  _ am  _ a good girl. But if you let me go pee, I promise I will be VERY bad when I come back.”

“Oh, is that a promise?” Adam’s eyes crinkled as he smiled goofily, forehead resting against yours, before claiming your lips again. “Good, there will be an intense session of  _ Drill Training _ when you return.” Adam mumbled, his eyelids still half closed. 

You burst out laughing at this, seeing him grin even wider at his own terrible innuendo. You swatted him on his shoulder as he pulled you tighter, kissing you between snorts of laughter. 

“Ok, my joke was cheesy, but yours was legitimately  _ awful. _ ” you couldn’t stop shaking with laughter, getting up off the bed to grab a t-shirt and pants from your overnight bag. 

“I know. But you love it really.” he turned to grin at you, his hair a mussed, curly mess poking out at all angles. 

“Annoyingly, I really do” You kissed his cheek, before making your way to the stairs, opting for the downstairs bathroom so you could check your phone and grab some much needed water from the kitchen. ... _ And that’s not the only thing I love _ , you thought, even now startled at how swiftly and easily that feeling had come.

***

The peace of the morning was quickly broken when you turned on your cellphone as you came out of the bathroom. As you grabbed a bottle of seltzer from the fridge your phone started pinging wildly as a string of messages and notifications came flooding in. 

_ What the…? _

  
  


You had been expecting  _ some  _ messages, obviously. It was the real reason you’d snuck downstairs to get your phone. You imagined it would likely be Rose and Jonathan, probably having seen pictures on social media or something, wanting to let you know, to check in with you. Likely Hannah, who you now had on speed-dial, who’d promised to message first thing to say hi. 

Part of you was excited, more than terrified, to see the official event pictures. Unlike during the run-up, when you had been nauseous with nerves and had built it into such a huge deal, having actually now experienced it, and seen the reality, you were less daunted. 

You imagined what the pictures would be, very standard, a pose, a mention of the designer of the dress, a caption about Adam. Your name would be printed, no doubt -  _ you gulped, that was certainly weird _ \- but since you didn’t maintain any active social media channels, maybe 3 posts on Instagram from an account you’d started and abandoned three years prior you knew there was little information out there about you, so you weren’t too worried. You never paid attention to social media at all and didn’t have any other apps except your long neglected Insta account. 

At most your mind drifted, imagining some silly comments about your hair, or dress, or how hot Adam looked on some celebrity gossip magazines, some speculation on how you’d met. 

Mostly you warmed at the idea of a great picture of the pair of you, wanting to see him by your side, handsome in his suit.  _ Yours. _ You had a couple of selfies of you both taken on your phone, fun spontaneous pictures, grinning and happy, taken in the park the previous week, but you loved him in his suit so much and it was so early in your relationship, you didn’t really have many pictures of you together. Certainly you had none of you ever dressed as finely as you had been the previous night! You wanted it to share with your mom when the time came - she was clueless about anything happening on TV or in the movie world, or theatre.

As you drained your glass of water, you picked the phone off the counter and started to read through your notifications. And that’s when your stomach hit the floor. Whatever you had thought would or wouldn’t be the resulting coverage, nothing had quite prepared you for the reality. For the onslaught. For your reaction.

***

You didn’t know where to look first. The trail of 15 messages from Rose, hitting various degrees of rage as the messages got longer and longer, or the screenshot of hateful twitter comments which Jonathan, for better, or worse, had felt the need to share with you. Or was it simply your own morbid curiosity, google searching your name and Adam’s and immediately dredging up a picture that filled you with horror? 

Too many things hit you in the gut, all at once, like a hail of bullets. 

You clicked the small camera icon you had forgotten even existed on your phone, opening your long ignored Instagram profile. You hadn’t opened it since 2017, the last picture a photo of you and your Dad at Tribeca film festival, the same one taped to your fridge. You gulped as you saw the red notification icon. You had jumped from 29 followers to 4,355 overnight. There were so many photo tags you didn’t even know what to hit first. 

Vanity Fair’s instagram came up first. 

A gallery of five images, with you and Adam the first in the set.

_ “Stars of stage and screen arrive at Carnegie Hall for the annual Young Writer’s Award, including Adam Driver and girlfriend (!), Amy Myers, a young theatre producer, making their surprise debut appearance as a couple. The duo opted for classic elegance, Adam in a tailored navy Burberry suit and his date in a teal lace dress by Oscar de la Renta. The pair looked cosy as they mingled with New York’s literary high fliers at the five-star event, prompting a flurry of speculation over Hollywood’s most sought after actor. #youngwritersawards” _

The picture was stunning, as much as the caption had started a roiling churn in your belly, making your breath come out short. Adam’s look as he gazed at you pulled your heart into your throat. His eyes were quite simply adoring, his whole body turned to you, his smile beaming, as if the cameras didn’t exist and you were his whole world. You wanted time to stop there, but instead, drawn by the horror, you checked further tags. And then the  _ other  _ photo came up. Again. And again. And again.

You were on the steps of Carnegie Hall but you were tilted forward, mid-fall -  _ when you’d caught the heel of your shoe _ . Your clutch bag was dropping from your hands, a strand of your hair loose and falling over your eyes. Adam’s expression, caught with his mouth open in a dazed, furrowed brow look - you remembered him calling out to grab you and halt your fall - was almost dishevelled,  _ as it would be, caught during his sudden movement _ . To anyone who hadn’t been there, it all had the appearance of making both of you look drunk, and out of control.  _ Who the hell had taken this picture?  _ You’d had a couple of whiskies, but neither of you had been remotely drunk, having eaten well, danced for hours, split the bottle with a crowd and hydrated with plenty of water. You read the caption and felt sick.

_ “Adam Driver surprised the Hollywood world last night with a new GIRLFRIEND, the pair spotted together for the first time partying like drunk teenagers at the annual Young Writers Awards at Carnegie Hall. Adam and his lady friend were clearly worse for wear as they stumbled to their car, the two reportedly seen ploughing through multiple bottles of expensive scotch at the high-end event for New York’s liberal elite. Amy Myers, the mystery girl, is said to be a theatre producer, but little more is known. No doubt ardent fans of Adam and his most famous character: Kylo Ren from the Star Wars franchise will be clamouring to find out more about this party girl who has claimed his heart and taken the movie world’s most eligible bachelor off the market. BUT… is it love, or a drunken mistake?” _

TM - fucking Z. The biggest gossip rag in the industry. And of course, their picture had been shared like wildfire.

_ What the actual hell?  _ You wanted to be sick, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. You felt like you’d drifted out of your body, this couldn’t be you, reposted hundreds of times, ripped apart. 

Your fingers trembled as you opened Rose’s messages, the twitter comments which you just knew were but a fraction of what was likely out there.

_ “Who the fuck is this drunk bitch? #SaveAdamDriver” _

_ “She looks like a skank” _

_ “Adam Driver picks up some cheap girl - who even is she? #CancelAdamDriverParty” _

_ “Who’s the mysterious party girl who has stolen Adam Driver’s heart. Party pair caught drinking and dancing at elite event celebrating writers” _

_ “Little is known about Amy Myers, her instagram reveals nothing past 2017 but she enjoys movies and loves dogs.” _

_ “Amy Myers - Adam’s mystery fling! Saint, or sinner?” _

_ “ADAM NOOOOOOO! How can you do this to the fans??” _

_ “Adam Driver drunk and disorderly as he parties with mystery redhead”  _

You stared in disbelief at the endless, ridiculous shit spilling over Twitter, completely irrational and almost violent in its rage. As well as the gossip, the stupid theories and repeating of rumour that had literally no basis in any reality. 

_ What was WRONG with people??? _

You didn’t even see the positive messages, even though there were hundreds of them.

Rose’s whatsapps tried to reassure but in the heat of the moment, the swirl of nausea, the shock of the moment and your complete newness to this reality combined and all you could do was crumple against the kitchen counter as thick hot tears spilled down your cheeks.

You didn’t see the compliments, the positive stories, the focus on the actual event, the sweet words from Hannah saying quite simply “oh fyi, in the morning, ignore all the stupid people, they’re everywhere, it’s just pointless noise. Look how GORGEOUS you guys look!”

You only heard the noise. And this was NOTHING, this was a blip. Your first ever “appearance”.

_ How do people deal with this shit?? _

You slumped to sit on the floor of the kitchen, not knowing what to do with yourself, your eyes just staring blurrily at your phone screen, Rose’s last message, “call me if you need to talk. I know you’ll be freaking out, but remember it’s because you’re going fishing for the information, it’s all bullshit and you know it. This is happening daily to everyone who’s even remotely famous, even the two-bit lame-asses from the cooking shows.There’s lovely pieces in NYT and Variety, go check those out, and who gives a shit anyway. It’s bull. Ignore it all, you and I both know you are not interested in this! Adam’s got your back. Call me. CALL ME!!!”

You heaved a dry breath and the sobs just came out harder. You thought of Adam, curled upstairs in his warm, large bed, blissfully ignorant of this stupidity that must plague his every day. Strong enough to simply not care, to not even know. He wouldn’t give two hoots, nor would he even know what was published, he didn’t care in the slightest. And yet you couldn’t help it affecting you.  _ You _ couldn’t pretend you could just switch off. Despite wanting to feel stronger, knowing you weren’t normally affected by things like this, you felt it in your bones. 

You couldn’t bring that constant anxiety into his world, he didn’t need that. You wanted him more than you ever imagined wanting anyone, but suddenly you couldn’t picture this lasting, you were sure he would grow tired. 

_ I don’t know if I can really do this, you thought. _

***

When you hadn’t returned to bed after fifteen minutes, and there was nothing but silence coming from downstairs, Adam shifted in the sheets, raising his head from his pillow and calling your name out gently. 

_ Where were you? _

He rolled out the bed, slipping on a pair of boxers and padding out to the gallery hall overlooking the downstairs floor. He couldn’t see you but he heard a small noise, from behind the counter, like a low keening cry. 

“Amy? Are you ok?”

He almost flew down the stairs, striding over to the kitchen island to find you curled behind it, legs tucked up against your body, your head on your knees, shoulders shaking. Your phone was discarded across the floor from you and your hair completely covered your eyes.

  
_ Oh god no, let me at least clear my head and stop snivelling. _

“No, Adam. Please leave me…” you rasped, your voice breaking. You felt shame on top of the anger at being seen like this over such trivialities.

He kneeled down instantly and scooped you into his arms, pulling you into a tight embrace against the solid warmth of his chest. 

“Amy, what’s wrong? What happened? Hey… please tell me?” He rocked you gently and the heat from him, his familiar smell, the softness of his skin and strength of his arms only broke you further. You needed to walk away, how could he make this so hard?

He pressed kisses against your hair, stroking you reassuringly, small whispered cooing into the crook of your ear.

“Amy, please. You can talk to me, about anything. What’s hurting you?”

“Adam, I… I can’t do this.”

“Do what? Please tell me. Just let me help.”

“You...” you sighed, “You can’t help…. You’re… you’re the problem.”

You lifted your head slowly, catching his wide eyes, boring into yours with an intense concern. He looked confused but not nervous. He didn’t take your comment the wrong way, nor did he retreat, instead brushing a lock of your hair from your eyes. You heard his brain whirring. He suspected what might be going on.

“If... I’m the problem, could I also, maybe... be the solution? Is this… is this about last night?” you just looked at him blankly. “Oh, it is. You’ve seen something.” He knew. Of course he did. He didn’t release you at all, just held you, stroked your hair, your back. 

“I… uh, there’s just, so many comments. And there’s a photo. A  _ bad  _ one. Someone, in the dark… I don’t know. It’s not good. I hate it. I hate that this is a thing. That it will always be a thing.” 

You weren’t making sense but didn’t even know where to start. You tried pushing Adam away, embarrassed at your tear-streaked face, your red nose and puffy eyes. Embarrassed that this was affecting you so strongly.

“Shhh… sssh… hey it’s ok. I promise you. Let me help. We talked about this… we knew…”

You flared up at him, bitterly, mostly to cover your awkwardness.

“ _ You _ knew.” you snapped. “What I thought I knew is SO different to what it actually is. It’s so much MORE weird than I thought. People… so,  _ horrible _ . I don’t even know what I imagined…” As much as you tried to push him away, he held you tight, rocking you still, curling his palm around your waist, so warm, so protective,  _ so right _ . You hated that you craved him, but resigned, curling into him, your hands pressed against his chest. 

“I… I’m so sorry it is making you feel like this.” Adam purred, softly, his voice full of empathy. “I know I can’t tell you how to feel. I just ignore all this, it’s all shit and stupid, it’s just idiots. There’s so much noise out there. It’s easy to get sucked in, but I promise you, it can also be easy to never see it. I promise, Amy. I’m not going anywhere, so talk to me.  _ Please _ .” His voice was so soft, soothing, in your ear.

“But it will always be there. I don’t know how long you can deal with this, with me feeling like this.”

He chuckled, pressing a long kiss to your wet cheek.

“ _ Deal with it? _ ?? Amy, being with you isn’t a chore. It’s not ‘ _ dealing’ _ with anything. It’s a fucking priviledge. You knew you’d freak out about this, we both did. You think  _ this _ is some kind of hurdle? That I would run away because you’re hurting?? On the contrary. Your reaction is a perfectly normal response, it’s all new. I can only imagine some of the crap they’re saying. You… I… I just don’t engage. And you don’t need to have a ‘public persona’ or engage with it at all, it’s going to happen whatever I do, or you do, but it’s all trash that can roll in the background, like white noise.”

“How do people cope?” your voice was tiny, barely a whisper.

“Honestly most do. You get a thick skin in this industry, it’s the only way. And you don’t engage. Ever… I mean, some people don’t cope. The ones that don’t are the ones who feel it’s important to read everything, that so-and-so in bumfuckville nowhere and his random opinion somehow matters, who think that the press know you, your life, or who you are. But… No one does, not them, not social media. And no one actually cares. They just care to hear their own voices, to fill an empty space in their lives. _I_ _know you_ Amy. _I_ care. Your _friends_ care. I know you well enough to know you don’t really give a shit about this stuff.” He waved a hand in the general direction of your phone. “Deep down. Right now it stings because it feels personal, it’s a new and shocking thing, but… these people have never met you, don’t know you and weren’t even there. You don’t ever need to care about what they write or say.”

He paused to press another sweet kiss to your temple.

“Amy, you’ve never been engaged with this sort of stuff, gossip, twitter, whatever the fuck. You’re out there in the real world, living, being, creating… loving life. That’s what I love about you. That’s you. You’re stronger and better than any crap like this.”

_ Did he just say… _

He stiffened, registering what he’d just said. It was over in a heartbeat but you had felt him under your hands. __

_ Love?  _

Your heart ratcheted up a notch. He softened again, cupping your face, kissing you so tenderly, so sweetly you felt your heart shatter. 

“I don’t know if I am, Adam. Strong enough.”

“Hey… I’m not saying don’t feel. Let this out, now. I get it. You’re not going to be comfortable overnight, I learned that too. But I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t think I will, that I would somehow want distance from you. I want you here. With me. I want to be in your life, want you in mine.”

You looked right at him, his eyes glinting in the morning sun, fleks of amber against the deep liquid chocolate, so kind, so entirely focused on only you, making you the centre of his world.

“I’m still scared.” you whispered. “I thought it would all just be fun and easy to brush under the carpet. It’s… overwhelming. I think I just… need time. I’m sorry I just can’t brush it off, I know it’s trivial...”

“Never apologise. It can be trivial and still hurt. You know when I said we had all the time? I meant it. Please let me be there for you?”

“Are you sure? Adam, I’m… it’s not the last time probably I’m going to freak out. I… people are going to want to write about me aren’t they. Speculate.”

“Yes. And you know what? You can switch it off. You can ignore it. You can focus on all the good, all the amazing stuff you are doing. Just like you were doing before.”

“I know. I’m… I’m not naive,I know I’ll get over this. I just… I think it’s just the shock, seeing it in person. This first time. Seeing it about… me. And you.”

“You’re not naive at all. You’re one of the most intelligent people I know. And am I sure about wanting to be there for you?” He hesitated, tracing a gentle kiss against your cheek, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, eyelids fluttering against your skin, thumb grazing across your temple. “More than you can imagine…”

***

You were still wobbly and Adam, sensing it, gave you space as you took a shower and dressed alone in the bathroom. You heard the sound of the dog-sitter dropping Moose off as you put your make-up on at the sink. 

Adam brewed a pot of coffee, you heard him playing with Moose in the kitchen, sounds of scrambling and giggles as he was no doubt giving Moose the mother of all belly rubs. He’d made you a toasted bagel with lox and cream cheese which he left on the kitchen counter - he was sat in a deep armchair in the alcove room, head in a script, demolishing a bowl of cereal, his long legs stretched out in front of him, hair still mussed. 

Somehow still reading you, your body language, knowing you needed time with your thoughts he simply got up and kissed you gently, before refilling his coffee mug, before padding back to his spot. You grabbed your own drink and your bagel and mumbled about taking them into the garden to do some rehearsal prep. You thanked your inner stars that he understood you, that he didn’t pressure or try to make you talk more, just let you be. Your head was a swirl, heart even more of a mess. 

As you stepped into the still-shaded back porch with your books and breakfast, Moose padded out behind you, a chewy toy bone in his mouth, hoping you would indulge him in some throw and catch as you read your notes. 

Of course you couldn’t concentrate at all on anything, just mulled over and over again the pictures, the comments. Your own reaction. You laid out the rational arguments for not caring - they all made sense - and you knew, just  _ knew  _ that even if Adam had never come along, you were bound to face at least something like this if the Broadway play ever took off. And you were more mature than this. So maybe it was just shock? 

Your heart ached at the thought of Adam. Did he love you? Was it a slip of the tongue? Did you love him? Something deep in your chest clenched, knowing the answer.

Moose - to whom you’d been tossing the chew toy again and again for the past twenty minutes as you rumbled through your mental trash heap - came to nuzzle your toes and rub his nose against your knees, his face so full of quiet dog wisdom. 

“I’m being a huge idiot aren’t I Moose? You dogs don’t spend any time worrying about crap like this, right?”

He cocked his head at you and let out a small snort. 

“Yep, see, you’re just happy to know there’s a tummy rub and a bowl of Purina coming your way on a regular basis. You don’t care if Shithead Karen from middle-of-nowhere likes the colour of your collar, or doesn’t like whichever dog’s ass you’re sniffing in the Park and wants to let all of Twitter know about it.”

Moose licked your knee, eyes quizzical and eager, as if in agreement.

You chuckled. Tentatively you opened your phone, looking at the two pictures again. The longer you looked, as the sun crested over the roof of the house and spilled it’s heat over the veranda, it started to look less terrifying than it had. 

I mean, it was still bad, but it certainly wasn’t the worst picture of you in the world. This one just got published on a bigger platform. And so what? The caption wasn’t true, but it also wasn’t slanderous. No one was accusing you of murder, or outrage. It was clickbait fodder, that no doubt had already been forgotten in favour of some other person’s light misfortune. Some other poor celeb who had dared wear the wrong shade of pink at a party, or had been snapped shopping for baby wipes on a rare day off.

You looked at the picture from Vanity Fair. That one was beautiful. Scrolling (you couldn’t help yourself) you took a breath and read more comments. Suddenly, even they weren’t as bad as they’d looked. 

_ “Adam is BAE! So handsome, and his new girlfriend and him are SO CUTE TOGETHER!!!” _

_ “I ship these two!” _

_ “OMG that dress is so f-ing gorgeous.” _

_ “Amy Myers - luckiest woman alive!” _ _  
_ _ “I’d climb him like a tree, and she gets to! YOU GO GIRL! #kylorenforever” _

_ “Hottest Couple Ever Award” _

You giggled. Suddenly erupting with laughter. Moose, at first confused, leapt up onto the sofa beside you, almost knocking the phone out your hand, wanting to show his enthusiasm for your laughter, burying his wet nose in your neck and grunting small happy yelps and snorts as you rubbed behind his ears.

_ That photo _ . You both looked completely and hopelessly in love. You knew it, no matter how soon, you knew it in your bones. You’d fallen so hard it was hopeless. And that, you reasoned, should be all that mattered.

***

Eventually you had to relinquish your peaceful seat in the morning sun, you had rehearsals with Jonathan and the production crew for your show. You still needed some space, some time to sort your muddled thoughts, still feeling uncomfortable that Adam had seen you so vulnerable over something you knew deep down was so trivial. You still stung slightly that he could be so disaffected, even if he’d never make you feel bad about it, this was all your own headfucked mind.

You opted to go early and stay out for a while, before returning for dinner. Adam didn’t question you, noting in your eyes and your subdued manner that you were still just sorting your thoughts.

_ He just gets me, no questions asked _ , you sighed in contentment. He’d curled you up against his chest, kissing you goodbye on the cheek as you stood in his doorway, he had his own rehearsing to do, planning an afternoon locked down to learn lines and text study. 

“I’ll see you for dinner?” he asked you, eyes hopeful but not pressuring.

“You will. I just want… a bit of headspace. I… I’m glad I’m staying tonight.”

“Take all the time you need. I just want you to be comfortable.” He whispered into your hair before letting you go.

***

Rehearsals brought you back to earth. You met Jonathan beforehand for a quick lunch and - working through your thoughts with him over the previous night, agreed he should NEVER send you any social media commentary again. He’d looked sheepish, realising it really hadn’t been helpful, but then he broke the ice by picking apart some of the more ridiculous comments, pulling a deep laugh from you that you really needed, allowing you to finally shake the negative thoughts off. 

Just as Rose had done, he pestered you for time to hang out with you and Adam and you knew you needed to sort that, to bridge your two worlds to bring a final semblance of normality to your new life. You’d raise it later. You needed your squad in order to cope with this bizarre new public life that you were going to be living, and Adam couldn’t be it alone, and his friends were all already living in it, you needed your people too, and it mattered so much that they all got along.

Rehearsals went really well, no one said a word about the event, of any photos, or anything at al - even thought everyone in the room knew. Thank god for the theatre crowd and their level-heads! The only person who mentioned it at all was the Perry Street PR rep who briefly congratulated you on an incredibly media-worthy first appearance, and complimented your dress. You shrugged off an awkward laugh, “media worthy indeed, and in some cases in the worst way” but really you knew she was right. Overall, it had been a success and would do you, and your production no harm at all.

Back in his apartment Adam was doing some thinking of his own. He didn’t want this moment of distress to kill anything that may be growing between you, he was damned if he was going to let you slip through his fingers and seeing how rattled you were had shook him harder than he imagined. 

_ Did I say love? _ He recalled his spontaneous outburst. It hadn’t felt wrong, or weird. It had felt incredibly easy, and right.  _ Was it too soon?  _

He took a bottle of seltzer and bag of potato chips out to the back deck for a quick break from reading, but mostly to clear his mind. 

_ I’m 37. I’m old enough to know what I want and not to play games. I don’t say love lightly. And I’m pretty damn sure that’s what this is. I’m not letting this girl go. _

***

When you returned that evening, around 7pm, Adam was out on the porch (he’d given you the spare key normally reserved for the dog sitter, but somehow the way he’d given it to you felt like a bigger sign than just a practicality). When you stepped out to meet him, his feet up on the table, script pages heavily scrawled on spread around him, Moose curled up against his side and a cold Budweiser open on the ground beside his feet he jumped up. You dropped your bag and he was at your side in one long stride, an arm curled around your waist and his big strong palm cupping your cheek, seeking your lips for a salty kiss, his mouth warm and tangy from the beer. You could never tire of kissing this man.

“I’m a bit later than I thought, sorry.”

“Don’t even worry, we didn’t set a time. Did today go well?”

“Yeah, really well actually. We’re in a better place than I thought at this stage. You?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda done. I need to rest now, my eyes are getting tired.”

You kissed him again, squeezing his hand. You both pulled apart and looked at each other, both clearly working up to saying something. THen you both opened your mouths at the same time.

“Amy, I …”

“Um, I wanted to…”

You both laughed. Adam nodded slightly, stroking your cheek, letting you go first. 

“Um… listen. I think, after the whole - last night thing - which by the way I feel much better about. I just… I think part of what’s weird is since we’ve been seeing each other, I’m not really seeing my friends. My ‘real life’ feels like it’s this other thing that is separate from you and it shouldn’t feel that way.”

“I’m monopolizing your time. Sorry…”

“No, you know it’;s not that, we hardly have time, I love spending it with you. I just mean, I want to share other things with you than just me - er, this is coming out weird. I want you to meet my friends. I want us to spend time with each other’s friends, I need that normal for me. I’ve met Noah, Greta. I love them, I want to see them again of course, but they are also in ‘this world’ and hanging out with them is like an extension of hanging out in a space I’m not fully comfortable with. Also, my friends want to get to know you.”

He laughed, letting out a sigh of relief. Then scooped you up in a heated kiss, smiling.

“I was literally thinking the same thing. I… well, I had a thought. The time thing. Having some chill…”

“Tell me more…” you grinned.

“Well. I have a small house up near Woodstock, upstate. I don’t go nearly as often as I want to but I was thinking… we’re both tired and we both want proper time together. And, I also want to get to know your friends. So… if I could clear a couple of days, a free weekend, maybe in a couple of weeks. And if your friends were free… we could maybe, go away for the weekend?”

You could think of nothing more you wanted in the whole world.

“Any more surprises up your sleeve?” you joked, “And yes. I’d absolutely LOVE that. Honestly. I know Rose’s shifts anyway, and she can easily get the time. Jonathan’s basically on the same schedule as me, so … I don’t see a problem. If he can bring his partner?”

“Of course. Maybe… you and I go up on the Friday so we get an evening alone, then they can come on Saturday? There’s space for everyone. I… I want proper time away with you, away from the city, theatre, all this. Just me and you, and some down time. And your friends.”

“Adam, it means so much. Really. Yes. Hell yes.”

He beamed, pressing more sweet kisses to your cheeks, your lips, pulling you to him, taking deep breaths as he nuzzled your hair, revelling in the deep scent of coconut and lime, his shampoo, but also that hint of oranges, your perfume, intoxicating. You signed into his sweater, sliding a hand under the fabric to touch the bare skin of his back, wanting the contact. 

“Good. I… was nervous you’d want to maybe leave it for a bit.”

“Not a chance. I’d go right now if I could.” you pulled back and shot him a smile so bright he felt the air rush out of his lungs.

_ Yep. Definitely love.  _ You were both feeling it. 

“I’m going to grab a beer, want me to bring you another one?” you broke the heated silence. 

“Oh, thanks I’m good. I thought maybe we could get take out? I don’t have much in the fridge. Chinese?”

“Chinese sounds good. Beer first, then take out.” You reached up to kiss him before heading to the kitchen, heat rising to your cheeks as the first glow of evening settled over the garden and the nightlights automatically turned on, bathing Adam’s tall figure in a sudden golden glow, dusty light glinting off his jet black locks. You wondered if you’d make it through dinner before you were both naked, grinning inside. 

You walked to the door into the apartment.

“Oh and Amy?”

“Yeah?” you turned, curious. Adam was giving you a sly, cheeky look, one eyebrow raised as he chewed at his bottom lip.

“You ever ridden a motorbike before?”

“Me? Er… no… why?”

“Mine was at the repair shop, but… I get it back this week. I’m just saying...I have a spare helmet and... it makes the trip to Silver Lake way more fun.” His eyes were silently asking your permission, your approval of the idea. 

You stopped short, stunned. 

A vision of Adam, all black jeans and leather jacket, dangerous speeds and your arms wrapped tight around him on the back of a motorbike was literally every dirty dream you could imagine. 

You nodded gently, trying to form words.

“Ok. Um... Yes. Definitely yes.” 

His smile couldn’t get bigger if he tried.


	15. Lake house lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy and Adam head upstate to his lake house. On his motorbike. Which is big. Just like Adam. And black. Just like Adam's leather jacket. And... as it turns out, is a horny-making beast of a machine.
> 
> Reference pic for the leather: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a9/f1/86/a9f1867e76e5702562784929383948e5.jpg  
> ***  
> Breaking the weekend away chapter into two parts, so this is part one BEFORE the arrival of Jonathan and Rose.   
> ***  
> So basically lots of romantic weekend getaway stuff and SMUT!!! In fact this might be the sexiest smut I have ever written, or at least I tried! haha! 
> 
> This chapter comes with a minor angst warning - if you've ever been in a manipulative relationship and that is a trigger for you, please be warned. The manipulator in this case is NOT Adam. Minor reference to Amy's previous problematic boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still constantly BOWLED OVER by the amazing response to this fic, which I am writing with increased enthusiasm, mostly driven by all your lovely words. FEEDBACK, KUDOS and COMMENTS are my caffeine, I am so unbelievably humbled and grateful! Hope you are all still keeping well and looking after yourselves, self-care is SO important! x

The next two weeks were the usual flurry of activity, although now you had found your feet a bit you were working to a more settled rhythm, a regular schedule of rehearsals, work and study. Rose and Jonathan had been easy to coordinate your weekend getaway with and they had agreed to rent a car and drive up together to join you and Adam on the Saturday, the pair of them absolutely bursting with excitement - which you mirrored.

Hannah - in a move even Adam admitted was a bit “entitled asshat” would be driving up in her car to drop Moose off at the cabin so the pair of you could ride up on Adam’s bike. He’d said nothing and you’d spent the evening literally boggling that he was pulling his celebrity card like that, rolling your eyes at him several times. That was, until Hannah admitted later by whatsapp that he’d engineered the bike ride only after finding out that she’d wanted to visit her family upstate for a birthday and would be heading to the same area that weekend. Apparently he’d checked she was ok with it about five times, apologising profusely even when she insisted on doing it.

_ “Amy, the guy might be the size of a tank and a moody grump sometimes, but really he’s just a big sensitive puppy dog. Entitled asshat is the only role I’ve yet to see him play.”  _ She’d texted, followed by a number of cry-laughing emojis.

***

At first it was a toothbrush, then a change of pants and a small make-up bag, but over the course of the next fourteen days bits of you started to find their way into Adam’s apartment. You found yourself spending more and more nights at his and noticed his not-so-subtle clearing of spaces for you in his bathroom, the bedroom, the bookshelf - done without a word, but obvious nonetheless. 

After that it was your study books, then your favourite brand of yogurt appeared in the fridge, the sesame bagels from Russ and Daughters that you loved were stocked in the bread bin. A new chair appeared in his upstairs study, a cleared desk space by the window. Then a bottle of your favourite orange-scented shampoo from a small French artisan store in Williamsburg magically appeared in Adam’s shower caddy, your dirty linen mixed with his in his basket. He kept the poetry anthology you’d gifted him on the table by his bed.

He’d stayed at yours a couple of times, but you were the first to admit that his sprawling apartment with garden and infinite space was preferable to your tiny cramped glorified-studio on a noisy Park Slope street, even if you appreciated him insisting on spending time at yours. 

The Thursday before you were due to travel upstate you had a full day of rehearsals, then an evening to yourself, realising then that it was the first in three nights you’d been alone. You smiled at the thought - your relationship had rapidly escalated and despite some trepidation, you were ecstatic about it.

As you’d gotten to rehearsals that afternoon, you were aware of a couple of photographers that you’d noticed lurking on the sidewalk opposite Cherry Lane Theatre where you and Jonathan were prepping for your show. They weren’t intrusive, standing on the other side of the street, just a snap here and there, but you knew they were there for you and not knowing what they were really snapping, their hovering presence, caused you a small twitch of uncomfortable under your skin. 

_ I guess I’m still new news _ , you thought, your mind completely weirded out by that prospect.  _ How can it possibly be interesting for anyone to see me in my sweatpants standing outside a building? _

You brushed it off, striding proudly into the building to get to work. Jonathan immediately greeted you with coffee, a bag of donuts and his particularly sunny brand of ego-boosting energy that you adored him for and you both got down to it - your show slowly taking shape, the reality of your opportunity solidifying in a truly exciting way. 

Once rehearsals were over, you were keen to get back to yours to pack and finally get some rest before the weekend.

“You’re riding to Woodstock on a  _ motorbike _ ? Say what now?” Jonathan asked you as you emerged into the afternoon sun and the busy East Village bustle.

“Yup. Turns out Adam’s super into biking. Since he was a kid. He got given a bike as part of his brand ambassador deal, with Breitling. It’s been at the repair shop but he gets it back this week and wants to ‘road test’ it. With me.” You wiggled your eyebrows, giggling.

“Ok, give me a moment while I digest the idea of you both on a motorbike. Um… seriously hot?!” You chuckled.

“Yeah...You’re telling me! I mean, it’s kind of scary, but mostly just incredibly exciting… I mean, I’ve been on the back of a Vespa once, in Rome on a holiday, but this is a  _ whole _ other level. I mean, I get the feeling he might be a bit of a speed freak. I’m not sure how nervous that makes me, I’m not even sure I care!” You were laughing now.

“I’m just… wow. Got your _ leathers _ ?” It was Jonathan’s turn to wiggle his eyebrows and put on a deep gravelly voice.

“Hahaha, no, I don’t think it’s a Hell’s Angels affair. He’s not turned into a fat beardy guy with skull tats and a bandana ‘round his head. Jeez, at least I hope not. Or he’ll be flying solo super quick.” You grinned.

“God, can you imagine?” Jonathan grimaced, laughing. “I can’t believe we’re getting this weekend away. This is like what Rose and I hoped for, but multiplied by ten. When I said let’s hang out with you and Adam I pretty much meant dinner or something.”

“I know! But, I think it’s great this way. We get proper time together, AND away from this city - I love working on this show, but boy we both need a break - I’m sick of this room, this heat, the city air. My whole body is exhausted. I think Adam is losing it as well, his rehearsal schedule is brutal, and between you and I, I think he’s in talks for some movie as well… there’s meetings, so many meetings, it’s all very hush hush...but his agent keeps calling and Hannah’s hinted a couple of times.”

Jonathan went soft for a moment. 

“Do you… um… do you ever get the feeling it’s all moving super fast? Between you and Adam?”

You looked at him, your eyes betraying your acknowledgement. He immediately continued, looking embarrassed for a moment.

“It’s not a criticism, by the way, I’m just...checking in on you. As a friend. I mean, it’s ridiculously romantic, I can barely wrap my head round it. I just know… given your past experience…”

You let out a rush of air.

“It is. It is moving… fast. I think he’s probably thinking about it as much as I am. But…  _ and I’ve never been someone who massively believes in this _ , something just clicked. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like there’s an unspoken something between us, that doesn’t need words, where we just seem to gel on this level that runs so much deeper than the surface. It’s a weird one, but it’s there. He feels it. I feel it. It’s like a centering in me I only feel when he’s around. Also… maybe it’s the age, but I know what I want now. Especially since… James  _ (you still struggled to say his name without sounding poisoned). _ I don’t want to waste time or play cat and mouse, I don’t need vacant words, twisted, empty gestures, mind games. With Adam it’s authentic. He’s upfront, there’s no bullshit. He tells me his feelings without hesitation. There’s respect. It just feels _ right _ , I want more of it.”

“Does he know… about James?”

“Hmm… he knows vaguely of an ex that wasn’t great…”

“Ok, that’s the understatement of the year. James…  _ hurt you _ . Really hurt you. Will you tell him?”   
  


“Yes.” Too quickly. “Of course, I don’t...want to hide anything from him, I just… I don’t know. Didn’t want to get into it so early in. Maybe this weekend is the right time, away from all the stress. I know I should.”

“I think so. And for the record, with everything you’re telling me about Adam, not that it’s my business, but since you both got together you have been literally glowing. Your energy is like a whole other thing, even when we’re both fucking exhausted.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s like you’re amazing you, but...on steroids. So… I’m going to be buying this man a LOT of beers for making my bestie so happy.”

You grinned at Jonathan and gave him a squeezing hug.

“I love you, you know that right? I’m so glad we’re doing this project and I’m so glad I have your back in all this crazy.”

“Always, girl.”

“Oh, and if you’re buying beers, go with Other Half Brewing. They’re Brooklyn-based. He’s a big fan.” 

“OK, but promise me, when our show opens _ I _ am your red carpet date. Adam can have you… at the Oscars. Or whatever.”

“It’s a deal. I’d be _ honoured _ . Right, catch you Saturday!”

You both laughed and you hugged him before setting off down Commerce Street to catch the subway.

***

By 10pm that evening you were packed - a hiking backpack, small enough to not weigh you down on the back of the bike. Adam had texted you some tips - in his characteristic all-caps, clumsy texting style that still brought a grin to your face every time.

“BRING A SWIMMING COSTUME, THE LAKE IS REALLY NICE IN SUMMER.” 

“No big snakes?”

“NO.”

“Noble of you not to make a joke there.”

“ARE YOU FIFTEEN?”

“No, but you are definitely an old man if you STILL haven’t figured out how to do sentence case on your phone.”

“I HATE PHONES.”

“😊😊”

“PLEASE NO EMOJIS.”

...

“THERE’S TOILETRIES AND STUFF SO YOU JUST NEED BASIC CLOTHES.”

“I DON’T PLAN ON YOU BEING CLOTHED. MUCH. AT LEAST THE FIRST NIGHT.”

“Oh really? I thought we were going to spend our first evening together reading in quiet contemplation and enjoying the bird song. I packed a book on native tree species. It’s a page turner, let me tell you.”

“MAYBE ALSO THAT.”

“Wait… really?”

“....NO.”

...

WEAR JEANS FOR THE BIKE OR YOU’LL GET BURNS FROM EXHAUST ON LEGS.”

“AND BOOTS.”

“Adam, at this rate I’ll get eye burn from the visual assault of your all caps messages”

“YOU’RE VERY FUNNY.”

“I know. You love it.”

“YES.”

…

“You’re very bossy on Whatsapp”

“PHONES ANNOY ME.”

“Sir. Yes, Sir. Semper Fi”

“STOP!”

“Affirmative!”

“YOU’RE ENJOYING THIS.”

“Yes Sir.”

“...”

“So...Do you still have any of your Marine combat uniform?”

“UH, I DON’T KNOW. MAYBE AT MY MOMS. BUT...WHY???”   
“Oh Adam… so smart, so intelligent. And yet…”

“??”

“Think really hard…”

“OH!”

“There it is!”

“THAT’S A THING?”

“You’re kidding right?”

“I SERVED MY COUNTRY AND YOU’RE JUST GETTING HORNY ABOUT THE COMBAT PANTS?”

“Amazingly, it’s possible to both serve your country AND be fucking hot doing it.”

“I MIGHT HAVE THE PANTS. SOMEWHERE.”

“Good boy.”

“BUT REALLY? IT’S A THING?”

“Adam, stop pretending you don’t know it is. And you love that I’m horny for it.”

“YES.”

…

“GOING TO BED NOW. PICK YOU UP AT 2? CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU.”

“It’s only been since last night… but, I can’t wait either.”

“I WANT TO KISS YOU. MY BED FEELS EMPTY.”

“I am kissing you. Just close your eyes and you’ll feel it. Sweet dreams x”

“XXX”

...

Then he was outside your apartment. A fucking vision of raw, utterly masculine sex.Those stupidly long, slightly bowed legs clad in dark denim, a pair of black Red Wing boots on his feet. His white V-neck t-shirt stretched sinfully across his broad chest, a black leather jacket as dark as the shock of sable locks curling at his neck, a hint of black stubble along the line of this jaw. His huge shoulders look even bigger in the biking jacket, his hair slightly messed from his helmet. The bike behind him was enormous, all sleek black and chrome, a beast. You felt a heat like lava pool between your legs and your throat go dry as sandpaper. 

His plush lips pursed together, a tiny twitch flickering under his eye as he locked his gaze on yours, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed before his mouth curled into a silent hungry smile. You closed the door to your building and trotted down the steps to meet him, eyes growing darker as he drank in your lithe frame in tight black jeans and calf-high biker boots. 

He couldn’t help the heat rising to his cheeks, the back of his neck prickling and a throbbing in his groin when he noticed that your light cotton t-shirt was so thin he could see the outline of the bralet underneath. It was the purple sheer one with tiny embroidered flowers he’d tugged off of you with his teeth just a couple of nights before, the one that barely hid the sweet rosy pink of your nipples, the milky soft white of your breasts.  _ Focus, Adam. Breathe.  _

Your hair was loose, a torrent of auburn curls skimming down your shoulders, your lips soft and cherry red. He felt himself getting hard in his jeans and cricked his neck, trying to snap himself out of his melted brain to greet you, pulling your tiny body into his.

Your kisses gave you both away, far too sensual for a kerbside greeting, his teeth nibbling at your bottom lip, tongue stroking yours, lips suckling your cupid’s bow gently. His sweet mouth was warm and plush, making your body tremble as his breath came hard and fast. He tasted of black coffee and cinnamon.

“Mm… hi.” He practically whined. “You look… um...really hot. I’m…”

“How  _ dare _ you show up looking like that?” You growled back at him.

“Huh..?” his eyes grew wide, confused.

You shut him up with your mouth, hot and hungry, already feeling the swell of his cock against your thigh as you slid your arms under the leather jacket and fisted his tshirt between your fingers, his skin warm, electric.

“We should… really…” he mumbled, starting to chuckle.

“Mmm hmmm… we should.”

“No,  _ really _ … _ fuck _ , AMY!” he growled, shifting uncomfortably as your thigh continued to graze against an increasingly prominent erection, his cheeks on fire.

A couple walked past you with their dog, thankfully deep in conversation and totally unaware of what was going on, but close enough to pull you both back to reality, breaking your moment as you both descended into childish giggles and Adam ran a hand through his hair, chewing his bottom lip, taking deep breaths - suddenly incredibly self-aware. You looked at your feet, ginning like a cat.

“We’re the worst.” you shot at him, not a little flustered yourself.

“Yes. We are.” His look stern, but eyes warm. “Ok, let’s get going, so we can continue this engrossing conversation later” he smirked, shooting you a wink that hit you right at your core, then he was all business, “I got you a helmet.” He reached to the furthest handle of the bike where a smaller silver grey helmet hung. “I hope it fits, I picked it up when I collected the bike.”

He helped you fit it on, pressing a kiss to your jaw, your lips, as he adjusted the strap under your chin, it fit like a glove. Then he shifted the leather luggage bag up to make space for you as he straddled the bike. You clambered on behind him, revelling entirely in the sheer size of the machine under you, the intimacy created by default at having to curl your arms tight around his waist, feeling his head turn to check you were ok and comfortable, bringing your small hand up to kiss your knuckles before lowering his visor, taking hold of the handles and kicking the bike into gear.

The bike lunged back off it’s stand, the roar of the engine vibrating through your body as you felt Adam lean forward, his torso lowering and he swung the bike off the kerb and onto the street. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating as he ran the bike down 6th Street, winding through the small Brooklyn streets, over the bridge into uptown then flooring the pedal as you hit the FDR Parkway, wind flipping the strands of your hair back, your heart thumping hard and fast against Adam’s back, thighs clenching against his, glorying in the power, the speed, the thrill. This was both terrifying, and completely addictive. Adam was shouting something at you over the rush of wind, but you weren’t listening, just letting yourself experience the sheer sensory overload, gripping him tight and pressing your entire body against his, feeling the vibration run through you like a deep bass.

You had soon left the city behind, heading into leafy upstate rolling hills. An hour or so later, you left the highway, turning off onto a smaller state road, the speed slowing to something approximating “only mildly thrilling”. You could finally hear Adam speak, or rather shout, over the howl of wind as you zipped through a succession of small, bijou towns, pretty like chocolate boxes, all white clapboard houses, sweet little boutiques and antique stores, hippy craft barns and pick-your-own fruit fields.

“Are you ok? I just want to get there, but if you need to stop for anything, I don’t know, the bathroom, or water or anything, let me know?” his voice rumbled right through his chest, vibrating against yours. 

“I’m fine! I’m… oh my god, my heart is literally racing. This is so… oh my god.”

“You like it?”

“Adam you have NO idea. I don’t know even what to feel, I’m just having heart palpitations back here!”

“Is that  _ good _ ?” he immediately sounded concerned, God you adored him.

“It’s more than good. It’s amazing! Let’s keep going! How near are we?” You felt him relax.   
  


“Hmm, about another half hour?”

“Yeah let’s do it. I…”   
  


Mid-sentence the road opened up ahead of you, wider and empty. Adam floored the pedal again and you felt a tug at the pit of your stomach as the bike lurched forward, cutting off your breath. Adam pressed his back into your chest to let you know to hold on tighter. You gripped his t-shirt under his jacket, knuckles white, feeling the solid wall of muscle of his torso under your hands as he tucked down low, your thighs pressing even tighter against his as he indulged his speed addiction for a few minutes on the quiet stretch of road. 

You were such a mess of adrenaline and arousal you could feel how wet you were, a coil of pleasure licking your insides, the heat of your core pushed right up against Adam’s ass on the bike, the seam of your jeans rubbed tortuously against your clit. You’d be needing a change of clothes as soon as you arrived, but not before you’d had your wicked way with Adam in that leather jacket. You were pretty sure you’d barely make it to the cabin before you caved. There was time for romance later...right now you were just a fucking horny disaster and Adam’s very existence had never turned you on more.

*** 

Eventually the smaller state road became a two way downtown roadway through the town of Woodstock, bustling and quaint, a few stores, a couple of bars and farm produce stores, a sign indicating the festival museum, then a couple of turns and you slowed to a gentle ride as the road thinned out to an unmarked track winding through a forest of red oaks and beech trees, in full yellow and acid green in the summer sun. As the bike slowed, Adam released one of the handles to find your hand at his waist and curl his wide palm over it, giving you a squeeze.

“Nearly there.” His voice just rumbled through your body. 

The sun glinted through the tall trees, the light was delicious, the air cleaner, cooler. A few minutes later a gap broke through the dense woodland on your right and opened to reveal the placid expanse of a lake, clear water glistening and cool, surrounded by more lush forest and here and there a small wooden jetty or pebbled beach. It was beautiful, serene and apart from a couple of cabins nestled in the trees hinting at residents, seemed almost devoid of people.

You squeezed Adam’s hand, smiling from ear to ear under your helmet.

The road curved and a small wooden sign pointed down a first track through the trees on your right, Adam abruptly turning off, “Cooper Lake”. The track ran a few more minutes until a small clearing leading down to a stretch of beach framed by tall birch trees and swooping willows, and on your left a solid, two story log cabin, built further back into the woods with a broad deck and private jetty reaching down to the water. It was heavenly.

Adam killed the engine and reversed to set the bike on its stand, pulling off his helmet as you did the same, shaking his locks free and running his thick hand through the curls. You were hot and flustered from your ride, just looking at him was driving you to distraction, your body aching for him. 

“Adam, I want you.” you breathed as he turned to check on you, his eyes catching yours and immediately darkening. He didn’t need to say anything to let you know he wanted you too.

You climbed off the back of the bike and had barely dropped the helmet to the ground before you caught his arm and pulled it around your waist, finding his eyes, hooded and wanting as you reached around his neck and pulled him in to a searing kiss. 

He unstraddled the bike without letting go of you, his whole body bending to pull you as close against him as he could, his palm sliding under your t-shirt, thumb reaching up to rub across the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it as you whimpered into his mouth, his teeth tugging on your lower lip, sucking it hard. He ripped your bralet strap down, cupping your whole breast in his hand as you pulled at his t-shirt, hot fingers searching desperately for skin contact under cotton and leather. You skimmed your hand over the front of his jeans, feeling him iron hard in the tight denim and as soon as your fingers slid over his cock he pushed eagerly into your hand, letting out a heated growl. 

You couldn’t undo the buttons of his jeans fast enough, slipping your hot palm down between denim and skin and wrapping your fingers around his cock, the head swollen and dark, already leaking. His moans became almost helpless as you stroked him, his thighs thrusting hard into your palm, your mouth and tongue licking at his jaw, the dips of his shoulders, any skin you could find, your kisses almost feral. He was propped awkwardly against the bike, legs struggling not to buckle as you continued to stroke him hard and fast, his brain barely able to think but he knew he needed to touch you more and for that you needed to move. 

He pulled your hand from around his cock, a low growl as it twitched, and wrapped your arm around his waist, lifting you in a swift movement, pulling his jeans up enough to walk you to a cluster of trees before pushing you up hard against the widest one. Your toes touched the ground, letting him push your jeans roughly down your legs, his eyes burning holes in your skin as he smelt how aroused you were, a dark wet stain soaking your white cotton panties, your sweet rosy clit outlined against the flimsy fabric. 

You immediately sucked in a deep breath as he dropped to his knees against the dirt floor, bringing his nose and lips to your swollen mound, sliding his hands up your thighs, his eyes looking up at you through thick black lashes, almost begging to lick you. You could barely form words beyond a breathless “ _ please” _ , you were no longer registering anything but his hands against your skin and the wolfish look in his eyes. 

You curled your fingers in his hair as he slowly slid your panties down, the cool air against your suddenly exposed skin caused your pussy to clench and a small trickle of arousal dripped down your thigh. Adam’s heart almost stopped at the sight and you watched as his hand wrapped itself around his aching cock and he started to stroke himself off, his whole body straining, desperate for relief. You felt your knees go weak you were so turned on. Your skin exposed, back and legs rubbing raw against the tree, his eyes on your cunt, hungrier than you’d ever seen anyone. Then he leaned close, his nose grazing at your clit, and pressed his plush mouth to the pink, swollen lips of your sex, dragging his tongue slowly along each one, then smaller, soft, heated licks as he moaned your name and you almost came then and there. He licked in long and slow swipes, teasing and lapping at your clit, suckling it in his mouth, dipping his tongue hot and deep inside you, coaxing more juices to flow. As you squirmed against the tree, gripping the back of his head, your entire body shook with pleasure as you felt him tugging at his cock hard and fast. You shivered at the sight of his lips against your sex, his tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness between your legs, his eyes fluttering as he pumped at his cock, so aroused by your taste, your skin, the small helpless sounds falling from your lips. 

One finger, then two slid long and deep inside you, your leg hooked over Adam’s shoulder as he licked relentlessly at your clit, his lips slick with your arousal, his mouth making obscene noises as he brought himself closer to orgasm, his fist working hard and rough along his shaft. You were close to your own release, your legs trembling and body a white flame as the deliciously familiar heat of pleasure roiled between your legs, in the pit of your belly. 

“Amy, come for me, _please_ , let me taste you when you come, I’m _so_ _close_ …” He panted, his voice breaking, begging. 

He looked up at you, eyes wild and black, so needy for you, his lips lush and deep pink sucking on your clit, fingers curled deep inside you, thumb teasing your folds, dripping and over sensitive. You felt yourself fall, your orgasm building like a torrent, saw as his eyes glazed, both of you edged to the brink.

“Adam, I….” you couldn’t speak as pleasure shook your whole body, back arching against the rough bark of the tree, knees buckling, cunt clenching, stars blinking behind your eyelids as you came, clenching hard around his fingers, your own gripping so tight in Adam’s curls your knuckles went white. You felt him stiffen, his face press into you, a cry as he came hard with a full body shudder, thick hot spurts of cum spilling on the ground, his fist coated with his spend, his moans drowned against your skin, tears prickling his eyes from the force of the orgasm.

You stayed like that for several minutes, chests heaving as you slowed to catch your breaths, both silent, basking in the quiet, the heightened senses, the pure sensation coursing through your bodies. Adam rested his sweat-slicked forehead against your lower belly, his arms curled loosely around your legs as your fingers gently carded through his hair, caressing the warm damp skin of his neck, feeling the rise and fall of his shoulders as he slowed his breathing.

Eventually he looked up at you, pressing a kiss to your belly button before gently sliding your jeans back up and standing, legs still shaky, to help you do them up, pressing sweet, tender kisses to your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You both chuckled, quietly, almost embarrassed, just holding each other, lips smiling, eyes still glossed with lingering heat.

“I’ve… um, I’ve never done that before.” he eventually mumbled softly, emitting a short hoarse laugh before pressing his lips in a line, bashful. “I... it was… I was so turned on.”

“Me too. The whole bike ride, I just… wanted you.” you exhaled, a loud, shaky rush of air through your lips. “I’m… that was such a rush. I’ve literally  _ never _ done that. I… um, I don’t think I’ve had such an intense orgasm from someone going down on me. Ever.” you giggled, then drew him back for a longer, slower kiss. “Thank you.” you breathed.

His eyes blew wide. 

“You don’t need to thank me for that, ever. I… felt the same. That was so intense, I think I still can’t feel one of my legs. Amy I would go down on you every day if I could. I... loved it, I love the taste of you. It’s intoxicating...” 

_ I love you _ , he thought, momentarily dizzy. “You turn me on so much, I’m… ok, I’m just rambling now...” he chuckled, then tilted your chin up with his finger, the scent of you still thick and heady on his digits. His mouth pressed against yours so softly, his lips like pillows, tasting of honey and lemons and a faint tang of sex.

“I… think I’d really like that” you smiled into his mouth. Then the smile faded and your voice went small. You needed Adam to know something that had been on your mind for a while. 

“I…uh, I actually never really let anyone go down on me. My… um. Before, when I did… it wasn’t, er… it didn’t go well.”

He eyed you with a frown, mouth pursed with concern.

“Amy… what do you mean?”

“I… we can talk about it, this weekend. We will. Please just not now. But…” he took your hand in his and kissed your fingertips gently, looking worried but not pushing you. “Just, I need you to know that, when you and I… when we make love it is everything I wanted, what I was looking for. It’s good. You make me feel good. Happy. About myself.”

Adam thought his heart would rip through his chest, a flare of hot anger at whoever had ever caused you the hurt that had briefly flashed across your eyes. But more importantly, he needed you to understand, to feel how much you made him happy. Made him feel like a better person. He pulled you to his chest again, kissing the top of your hair, your cheeks.

“I want to make you feel good. Happy. If that’s all I do.” he whispered.

You both held each other for a moment before Adam straightened himself up, dusting down his jeans. You cleared your throat, smiling at him sweetly, indicating it was ok to move on, that you’d come back to this but not now. Now was for adventure, for your weekend to start. Properly.

“Are your knees ok?” you giggled, noting the dirt stains on his jeans.

“Oh, yeah. Ha, nothing scarring.” he smiled at you. “Um, Is your back ok? It didn’t hurt you, did it? With the tree? Just…sorry.”

“No. Haha, don’t apologise. I mean, I think maybe I’ll have some scratches, but I didn’t even notice. I… I like it. The marks, the grazes.”

He swallowed, eyes with a look of constant awe at you. Finally, he took your hand and the pair of you turned back towards the house, coming back to the real world.

“So, anyway...um… welcome to the lake house!” He burst into a deep laugh and you joined in with him, the pair of laughing freely and deeply in the afternoon sun as you strolled back to the bike to collect your things, place the helmets back on the handles before he took your hand and walked you up the steps of the porch to the door.

***

The cabin - which was an understatement of a word - was beautiful and enormous, yet cosy. The furnishings were sparse, but tasteful, warm teak and oak, kilim rugs, everything felt lived in, worn and loved. the whole front of the living area in glass overlooking a wide deck tapering into a jetty over the water where a small canoe was tethered. Two deck chairs looked out onto the water, a couple of large bean bags and between two low hanging elms, a hammock. In one corner a small stone fire pit. 

As with his apartment, every inch of wall space was covered in bookshelves, books on art, poetry, plays. In one corner a shiny black guitar rested on a stand.

The view of the lake went on forever, instilling a sense of calm and restfulness over you as you felt all the tension of the past whirlwind months lift, freeing the muscles in your neck, the ache in your bones as you started to relax.

You’d unpacked quickly in the spacious bedroom - which also boasted a full wall of glass so you could wake up to the sight of the water at the foot of the bed. The afternoon sun glazed through the windows and Adam and you passed the time waiting for Hannah to arrive with Moose with him giving you a guided tour of the house, between pressing kisses to your neck, your hair, your mouth, opening drawers here and there as if to remind himself what was there, and answering your hundreds of questions - about the old vintage photos on the wall, how he chose the house, when he’d last canoed, what you wanted to do first. 

Given the heat you’d slipped into your swimming costume - not before Adam had kissed every inch of your flesh as you changed - then put on a loose cotton kaftan dress over it and sandals. Adam also slipped on a pair of black swim trunks, then, with a quirk of his eyebrow unrolled a khaki t-shirt from his leather luggage bag.

Without a word as you brushed a comb through your hair, he stripped off his white shirt from the bike ride, your eyes never tiring of his thick, powerful body, all milk-white muscle, solid planes, warm skin and so incredibly broad. Then he slipped the snug fitting tee on, running a hand through his locks, slightly damp from having run his head under the tap. He turned and you let loose a small laugh.

Stretched across his chest, the block letters USMC.  _ Yep, sexy as all hell _ , you thought and he threw you a cheeky smirk, knowing how much it was turning you on, knowing that you knew he’d deliberately gone looking for it for this trip as soon as you’d mentioned it.  _ Good boy _ , you whispered, as you heard a car honk down the gravel drive. Hannah.

***   
  


Moose virtually catapulted out of Hannah’s SUV and after licking Adam’s knees and pawed at his chest excitedly like a firebolt of fur and slobber for several minutes went scarpering off down to the edge of the lake to sniff at the trees and lap the water. Hannah lingered long enough to exchange a few pleasantries, also dropping off three large bags of groceries, before heading back off on the road. Now your weekend could begin.

The day was glorious. Adam unpacked a take-out box of fruit salad and two ice cold peach teas, resting them in an ice-filled tub on the deck. You swam in the cool water of the lake, Moose paddling enthusiastically in with you at first, as you played with him, throwing sticks and chasing him along the edge of the lake where the bottom was shallow, then he resorting to chewing a large stick on the sand as Adam and you swam further out, the cool placid water refreshing against your heated skin. Fireflies and water bugs skimmed over the inky green surface, the sun glinting off small ripples. Adam swam with power and grace, cutting the water with strength, he was glorious to watch. Then he stopped and trod water, shaking the wet from his hair, the droplets of moisture gathering in the dip of his clavicles, clinging to the curve of his shoulders as you swam up to join him and he wrapped his arms around you, wet lips pulling you in for a deep open kiss, his tongue hot and sweet in contrast to the fresh cool of the lake, his erection jutting into your soft belly.

You swam further round to a small clearing bay a few yards from the cabin and rested in the gravelly sand and shrubby grass at the edge of the water, Adam’s body pressed against yours, his lips burning kisses on your skin, fingers sliding under your bikini pants to dip inside you, still slippery wet with want. 

“I want to be inside you, but I don’t have a condom… um, obviously” he chuckled as your breath hitched, pushing into his hand, gripping his bicep, the skin soft and cool to the touch. 

“Adam, I’m.. I’m on birth control. Have been for years. I’ve been checked up - it’s… habit with someone new. And there hasn’t been someone new for ages, until you. I… what about you?” 

He tugged the thin fabric of your bikini bra to one side, exposing a stiff nipple, the deep dusky pink of your areola raised and sensitive from the swim. He kissed the gentle slope of your breast reverently before wrapping his lips around your bud and nibbling softly, muttering words of contentment, his cheeks heated.

“Mmm hmm…” he whispered, between nibbles, “I… I’m also, uh, I get tested every six months, force of habit from the military. I mean, even though I’ve been single since forever… but… are you sure?”

“I’m very sure. I want to feel you. All of you.” You pulled his head up to yours and cupped his face, arching into him, feeling his cock, heavy, hard, pressing against the curve of your thigh. You wanted all of his body against yours and searched his eyes to show him your consent. He kissed you like a starved man, tugging his wet clinging trunks off awkwardly, smiling as he pulled you close.

You made love in the sand, it was hungry and sweet and the sand got everywhere and you giggled and at one point it was uncomfortable as the shrub grass was scratchy, but then he slowed and you slowed and when he came inside you you felt every pulse, every sensation 100 times stronger than before. He whimpered as he spilled inside you, undone by the heat of you squeezing around him, your muffled cries as he watched you unravel, the tenderness of your caresses afterwards. 

You swam back, greeting Moose with a ridiculous amount of cuddles and as the sun started to set, you made a dinner spread of cold cuts and dips and flatbreads and Adam lit a fire in the pit. You took books out onto the deck to read side by side on the loungers as the light on the lake turned a blazing orange and pink, a bottle of cold white wine and the sound of crickets chirping, and you both fell into a state of lazy bliss. 

Soon the dark had enveloped the deck and only the flames of the fire and the pale white glow of the moon illuminated your bodies as you lay in the peaceful silence on the deck. The air had cooled and you had covered yourself in a knitted blanket, Adam in a cotton sweater. You reached a hand out to touch his arm, pulling his hand into yours and looking over at him. He dropped his book down on his chest and turned to face you, his eyes looked at you disarmingly, like no one else existed on the earth and it took you a moment to build up to what you wanted to tell him.

“You ok?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Yes. More than ok. This is… heavenly.” you smiled. “I,um… I need to talk to you. About my last relationship. I’m ready, I think. I need you to know about it, because it’s a part of me, even if I hate it.”

He sat up and turned, swinging his legs off the lounger to face you fully, pulling both your hands into his. 

“Ok. If you’re sure you want to. At your own pace.” he reassured you.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not a big drama, and I’m dealing with it, in my own, way, but I know it is easier if I tell you - it will help me.”

“Ok.” he waited, letting you go on.

“I was with James for a year. He was a whirlwind, but - not like you and I, not like a surprise. I’d known him for a while at Julliard, he was always hovering around it, I think, but I wasn’t sure. Then at a party we kind of hooked up. When we got together something weird happened. The first couple of months he was OVERLY amazing, too much, almost. It was crowding and over the top, cloying. I was on a pedestal. But I was having a rough time, my Dad had passed and I was getting nothing but rejections from auditions and struggling, so I lapped it up, ignoring the warning bells. I let him crowd me. Then I was hooked on the attention, like the more I got from him the more I forgot the pain of my Dad, the failing acting career I had dreamed about. Then one day he snapped.”

You heard Adam take a deep breath and stiffen.

“He… he hit you?”

“No, no… never. Never that. But… what he did hurt just as much. I guess you can call it gaslighting, mind control, I don’t know. He started to punish me when I saw my friends. Cut me down in front of them, told me I was worthless. He started controlling where I went, chastising me for enjoying anything that wasn’t him. Accusing me of sleeping around when I just went to meet friends for a drink or to go to the movies. And the worst was, I let him. I started feeling guilty for things I hadn’t even done. I hated myself almost as much as I hated him, but I had no power to leave. When I acquiesced to his demands he would switch on the romance again, lavish me with attention, gifts, “rewards” he called them. It was all bullshit. Control. I didn’t know how to be strong without him, he had made me completely dependent and I was so weak I let it happen.” 

You were determined not to cry, you’d exhausted far too many tears already on that asshole, but Adam’s fingers curling around your shoulder, stroking you gently made you shiver, your eyes watered. 

“Amy, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel that way. No one has any right to ever behave like that, and you are the least deserving person in the world of that pain.” he said quietly, not judging, not trying to offer you therapy, just letting you know he understood. Which was all you wanted. 

“I’m ok now, I saw a brilliant therapist. I just… one morning at 5 am I pretended to get up to go to the bathroom, and I’d packed a secret suitcase of my stuff and left it in the laundry cupboard of his apartment and I just walked out on him. I went to my Mom’s and hid there for a while. Changed my phone number. He emailed a few times, it was nasty but mostly it just showed his weakness. I kept all the emails in case he EVER tried to find me.”

“Wait, you think he would. Try to find you? You said he never hurt you, physically. That is stalking… Amy, it’s serious. Are you scared he might?”

“No.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“No, Adam. Don’t worry. He’s too weak, he’d never dare. His threats are always vocal, because he’s pathetic, he thrives on making people feel inferior, but it’s all hot air, verbal bullying. But it means I struggle with overt attention, the public eye stuff. My concern about that… It wasn’t just that I don’t particularly love being the centre of attention - it comes with the territory we work in - but a lot of it was… is… also just, if he sees it. Which he probably will. It just means him knowing again about my business. And I just hate him knowing anything more about me. He doesn’t deserve to.”

Adam looked concerned, fearful even for you and came over to sit on the edge of your lounger, pulling you into an embrace. You’d never felt more safe, more loved and secure than in that moment. 

“Amy, I’m so glad you told me this. I want to know if I EVER do anything, or you are ever in a place where you feel unhappy about this, us, or not even us, just any situation if you feel there is something that can be done, that I can do to help. Please tell me. I… promise me you are SURE he will never try to find you?”

“I’m serious. He’s harmless, in that sense, he’s totally weak. He knows I study at Tisch now, we had a lot of contacts in common from Julliard and he’s not once made an attempt at contacting me there. I just need you to know, that sometimes I will panic. I will be unsure of myself. I don’t have your overt confidence.”

At that Adam laughed and released you, looking at your with warmth in his eyes, a crinkle of a smile. 

“My overt confidence? Amy, you know me well enough now to know I literally live between intense awkwardness and the conviction I have somehow just fucked something up. I’m constantly aware of being huge and getting in the way and sticking out. You are SO emotionally aware of yourself. Your vulnerability is an immense strength, do you know how much I see in you that I wish I had in myself?”

You laughed at that. 

“Well, then we’re just both ridiculous. I wish I could just talk, walk, move my body with the quiet strength and conviction that you carry. You might feel the way you feel inside but you never try to disguise who you are. You carry yourself with an honesty, this self-effacing, oblivious charm and openness that is completely overwhelming.”

“Ok, stop now. This is turning into an “I love you more, no I love YOU more” conversation” he chuckled. 

Your breath halted, opening your mouth then closing it again as the actual words of his mocking expression hovered silent in the air between you. He realised it as well, a small twitch under his left eye betraying him, his mouth going dry, but he didn’t drop his gaze.

You felt a moment pass between you, like you both wanted to say it but both were nervous it was too soon. As ever Moose came to your rescue, padding between you to plop his head on your lap, breaking your awkward silence.

“I… um, more wine?” Adam almost gurgled, reaching round to grab the bottle from the cooler.

“Yes. Yes… please.” You answered, quickly as you reached round to devote all your attention to Moose and the soft spot behind his ear.

When Adam sat back down, he looked at you again, intensely, before leaning in and kissing you, pouring the unspoken words into the kiss - knowing he would say it soon, but for now just letting the intensity of the conversation settle in. You felt it in your bones, wanting to share those words with him too, but not in the same space as any conversation about James. For now, you just wanted Adam’s warmth, his quiet strength, his arms, the confidence and serenity he made you feel. 

Later, in the dark of his bedroom, the moonlight bathing the sheets and distant sound of owls cooing in the forest, he held you, moaned your name as he slid inside you, wrapped you in his arms as he brought you to orgasm with his tongue, his hands, his cock, his lips in your hair, between your legs, against your temple, you made love for hours, then talked, then did it again, eventually falling asleep in the early hours with his hand over your heart, limbs tangled together and bodies sated and glowing.   
  
  



	16. L-Bombs and Marriage Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy and Adam cross a new threshold in the relationship and the lakeside jetty gets a very nsfw baptism...  
> ***  
> I don't own or know Adam or have anything to do with him or anyone in his orbit.  
> ***  
> All locations mentioned exist.  
> ***  
> Yes, I talk about real movies etc from Adam's life but please suspend your disbelief on accurate timelines etc, this is a Modern AU, inspired by real life, but still fiction obviously so I play around a bit :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON THIS CHAPTER! Life has been BUSY trying to set up an Etsy shop AND I am now on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/doodleswords) trying to figure it out so come say hi! I will post updates and teasers on future chapters on there as well as Adam Driver fan art goodness and things! 
> 
> The lovely LC_writesandread recommended a GORGEOUS song for this fic: “first love / late spring” by mitski and I am so grateful, here is a video link
> 
> I will aim for less delay on the next chapter, but you can always hit me on tumblr for updates! As ever, I am BOWLED OVER by the love you all have for this fic. You’ll notice a chapter limit finally, because as much as I love writing this, there is the prospect looming that I will have to return to work at some point and I can’t guarantee to keep up the flow, so will come to an end, then I might post epilogue chapters in the future…
> 
> MUCH LOVE DRIVER FANS!

A lone yellowthroat started it’s sweet chirping call and response song at around 6 am the following morning, a gentle breeze sweeping through the willow branches that hung low under the tall glass windows of the bedroom. You were awake, but snoozing, body soft and pliant in the tender space between full wakefulness and dreamland, fingers of peachy sunlight streaming through the glass over the wooden floor and cotton sheets of the wide bed.

Adam was stretched out under the covers, a foot poking out from the thin sheet, his body turned to face you, arms folded under his pillow, chin tucked into his neck. A lock of jet black hair curled over his eyes, lips rosy and full, slightly parted, small huffs of breath escaping from them, his skin softened and face so much younger in sleep as the light dappled over his cheeks. You watched him for a moment, eyes still adjusting to the sunlight and brain slowly starting to wake. You stayed like that for several minutes, new birds joining in the chorus, a sweet symphony of nature, nothing else but wind and leaves rustling outside, watching Adam’s chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully - looking the most relaxed you’d seen him in weeks, all tension fallen away. 

You reached out and tucked the lock of stray hair from his eyes, fingers trailing over the curve of his ear, tracing the beauty marks on his cheek and neck, down along his shoulder, resting your palm on his upper arm as you scooted nearer, resting your own cheek on the other half of his pillow. He stirred under your gaze, barely moving except to curl his mouth into a gentle smile. 

“M’rning” he whispered, mouth still sticky and eyes fluttering in semi-sleep.

“Hi.” you smiled at him, before leaning over and pressing your lips gently to his cheek. 

“Mmmm… hi back.” he mumbled, nibbling at his bottom lip and crinkling his nose slightly, smile widening and cheeks dimpling as you cupped his face and kissed down his jaw and along his shoulder. 

“It’s stupidly early, don’t get up, I’m just enjoying the birds. I was going to go make a coffee. Want one?”

“Mmm, yes. Thank you. But first…” He opened one eye and found you looking back at him, a warm smile broad across your lips, then slid his arm out from under the pillow and reached out to find the curve of your hip under the covers, his wide palm curling around your lower waist and side, thumb softly stroking the skin of your belly before pulling you closer as you slid your leg over his and wrapped your arm around him. 

He kissed you then, slowly, making small sounds and caressing your skin with his hand, pulling your leg tighter around his and teasing your lips apart with his sweet tongue. You kissed like young lovers who’d just discovered kissing for the first time, tentative, without hurry, exploring, but full of emotion and tenderness, a gentle passion.

“I really like waking up beside you” he whispered, breaking the kiss, mirroring your gaze as he held you tightly.

“Me too.” You smiled, “so, so much.”

“I know it’s still early days, but…” Adam pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyelids, 

“... maybe at some point you might entertain the idea of us waking up together more often…?”

Your eyes widened, biting your lip, searching his eyes to understand what he was asking.

“You mean…?”

He kissed you softly.

“I’m not, uh, expecting some sort of decision straight away or anything, I hadn’t really planned on asking today, right now, but...it just suddenly feels like the right moment and… I’ve maybe thought about it a bit over the last couple of weeks. I don’t want to put pressure or whatever, it’s literally a thought for down the line… just, uh, so…”

“I’ve thought about it too,” you cut him off, “I was probably also waiting…”

He let out a small sigh of relief, his bashful smile revealing the slight gap in his teeth that tugged at your heart, his warm eyes.

“Well, like I said. No need to answer it right now, I just wanted you to know the offer is there for you to consider, that I’d thought about it and if you felt the same way, I’d love us to talk more about it. After the weekend… whenever you feel like it.”

You kissed him harder this time, the gentleness of before giving way to desire as you curled closer into his body, skin against skin and limbs tangled in his, his mouth hot and open against yours, his tongue coaxing pleasure from deep within you as his fingers slid down to find the warm sweet spot between your legs and the sun continued it’s rise into the morning sky.

***

A good hour later you crawled out of bed, threw on a t-shirt and padded downstairs to get the coffee on, greeting Moose with a belly rub and opening the french windows onto the deck to let him out. Despite the early hour, the fresh air and peaceful rested sleep, away from city noise and smog meant you felt more awake than you ever usually would at this time. You felt like a run in the woods, then a morning swim, two things you’d rarely have the energy to face in the city, even though you were a relatively fit person.

Jonathan and Rose weren’t due until early afternoon so you had the morning to laze about, enjoy the woods, eat breakfast in bed,  _ have more sex _ , you grinned to yourself, stomach fluttering at the idea Adam had just planted in your head, that you might make the move to live together… sooner rather than later. You’d need to consider any number of things, of course, it was so early on, but you couldn't deny you wanted to, nor your delight that he clearly felt the same way.

_ Is this too much so soon?  _ You dismissed the concern, poured the coffee and dug out the milk from the fridge.

You heard a phone ring in the distance upstairs. Adam’s, of course,  _ Hollywood stops for no one _ , you rolled your eyes -  _ even here in the middle of nowhere _ ,  _ at the crack of dawn _ .

When you got back upstairs with the coffees in your hands, Adam was sat propped up against the pillows, his head resting back on his arms, bare chested, hair curled softly back, a play of stubble on his chin and a broad grin on his face, the phone resting on the bedcovers over his lap.

“What?” you smiled at him, he looked like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh… just… some good news.” He was beaming, reaching to take a coffee from you.

“You gonna leave me hanging here?” you smirked. 

“That was Randi, my agent, uh, I just got the green light for a role. Oh, man, I wanted to tell you for the past week but I was waiting for the final, final sign off just in case.”

You crawled onto the bed, almost laughing as he grinned like a big kid. You’d sensed this was coming. 

“Go on…”   
  


“So, uh, you know back when we went for dinner at Noah’s, um, originally I was invited really to talk over a part he’s written, we were... we’ve been trying to get the go ahead on it, for me, from the execs, for months. Obviously, by the time we finally got round to coordinating dinner, I’d met you and it was early days, so I didn’t want the evening to be all about that, but we sort of talked briefly while you were in the kitchen with Greta… and…”

“So that’s all the meetings you’ve been having all week between rehearsals, I thought it might be something like this! Oh god, exciting! So another movie with Noah, huh?”

“Yeah, looks like it. Randi’s going to sort the contract papers next week, but pretty much we can go ahead now, I’m on the production.”

“Argh this is amazing!  _ You _ are amazing. Um, I am guessing we can’t tell Jon and Rose right, this is still super hush?”   
  


“Super hush… yes, until I get the contract papers back, but I promise, once it’s official we can celebrate, or something.”

“I’d… yes. That would mean a lot. Really. So, what’s the film? Can you tell me? I  _ knew _ there was something brewing!”

“Of course I’d tell you. So, well...it’s such an amazing script, I mean Noah is just a really incredible writer. Uh, it’s called Marriage Story… basically, think of it like a love story in reverse, a divorce story really. It’s centered on this custody battle and the emotional fallout straight after it… after the divorce, it’s, honestly, such a fantastic script, so nuanced - he always just writes these really rich characters...”   
  


He couldn’t stop, suddenly animated, vibrant, pulling you into an embrace, peppering you with kisses, then he told you the whole plot as you curled up into his side, his arm wrapping around you as he talked you through the story, all his meetings and the next steps and you drank your coffee and the morning blossomed fully into sunny splendour. 

***

You finally dragged yourselves out of bed for a run, taking Moose with you as you jogged through the woods along a dirt track cleared through a forest of elms. You suddenly recognised the road from the selfie Adam had sent you way back when you’d first met him after his visit to the dog pound - which seemed like aeons ago. 

“Is this where you stay when you’re at the retreat with your acting coach?”

“Sometimes, I mean, he has rooms - the school is about an hour away from here, a proper retreat with apartments, but I like to tack on days here if I can, I like being in my own space.”

Moose trotted along beside you happily, nosing at trees and scampering off to chase bugs and birds through the grass. 

After the run, you opted for a jump into the lake off the jetty to cool off, Adam stripping naked and diving in without a care - so you followed suit, Moose watching you from the deck, chewing at a gnarly stick he’d brought back with him. 

The water against your skin was still morning cold and goosebumps rose along your arms and legs. The fresh cool water between your thighs as you swam out past the shallow sandy ledge to the open deep caused you to shiver. Either that or it was the sight of Adam, naked as sin, floating on his back, arms outstretched in the inky blue water, his long, wide body pale and muscular as the water lapped over his skin, droplets glistening on his eyelids and broad chest, his cock bobbing against his belly as his hips gently rose and fell with the gentle undulating ripples over the surface of the lake. 

You swam up to him and he broke from his floating to pull you to him in the water, kissing you fervently, his hand curving around your neck and thumb skimming over your damp lips as they parted. You took his thumb gently between your teeth and slowly sucked, your sweet pink mouth closing around the tip. You felt his cock twitch, thick and hard as a rock against your lower belly, a hitch of breath as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and kept your eyes locked on his as you continued to tease his thumb with your tongue and started to stroke the length of his cock with the tips of your fingers. 

Adam started panting both with arousal and the effort of treading water as you teased his cock with small caresses, rubbing gently across the ridged underside of the head before sliding down to cup his balls, then teasing him even further with your fingers as you pressed into his perineum, stroking him in that most delicate spot, tracing tiny circles. His eyes flew wide and he clamped down on his bottom lip hard, blinking in surprise from the sudden rush of unexpected pleasure.

“ _ Christ _ ...Amy… I need.... Can we find somewhere I can stand?” He choked between laughing and a growl of hungry need as you released his thumb from your lips and pulled him in for a deep kiss, tongue finding his as your hand wrapped tighter around his erection and squeezed him.

“Yes we can...someone’s hungry for breakfast” you winked at him and let go to start swimming back to the jetty. 

Adam let out a groan - both in frustration at the sudden loss of your hot hand around his cock, and also at your terrible innuendo and started to swim back with you.

The end of the jetty rose just a few inches above the water and the bank of sand beneath it was shallow enough to kneel in. As soon as you’d found your footing you pressed Adam gently up against one of the timber piles, his body rising out from the water to thigh height, arms propping himself back on the wooden slats of the jetty boardwalk. You remained kneeling in the water before him and he looked down at you, running a hand through his wet hair, staring at you in wonder as you smirked up at him, the water lapping against your breasts, wet hair slicked down your back and your hand sliding up past the soft black hairs clinging wetly to his muscled thighs to curl around his erection again.

“You want to do this...here?” he panted softly, almost chuckling as you rose up slightly on your knees to kiss the tip of his cock with the barest brush of your lips. He shivered.

“Seems as good a place as any… no one for miles” you winked up at him, before slowly peaking the tip of your tongue out to lick softly at his thick purple head, once, twice, then kissing it again, suckling the swollen tip of him like a juicy strawberry as he moaned, visibly throbbing in your hand, a warm trickle of pre-cum dripping from the slit which you eagerly lapped with your tongue.

He gripped your head with one hand, fingers clenching in your hair, his other arm steadying himself as he arched back in pleasure, watching as you took the head of his cock fully between your lips and slowly slid your warm tight mouth down his shaft. He bucked gently, involuntarily, as you sucked him slowly, enjoying the taste of his clean, cool skin in your hot mouth, the sweet salty tang of his arousal at the back of your throat as he pumped slowly inside you. You dipped your head, lapping the underside of his shaft, tracing the thick vein with the tip of your tongue, teasing his balls as you watched his breathing get shallower, his chest rising and falling, eyes hooded, lips parted, knuckles gripped tight against the edge of the jetty. You licked and teased him to the edge with your tongue as your small hand worked him, revelling in the sight of this big, strong, beautiful man falling apart under your touch.

You felt him get closer to release, his breaths faltering and hips bucking with more abandon, his cock thrusting deeper into your throat, between mumbled apologies and stifled groans - which only spurred you on further, as you welcomed his thrusts, stroking him faster with your small hand as you licked and sucked and teased him with your tongue, lapping at the ridge, gently cupping his balls as you felt him start to tremble.

You took him as deep as you could, feeling his hand cup your cheek, wanting to feel how deep he was in your soft, warm mouth, his knees visibly shaking now. You looked up at him, his eyes dark and wild, watching you in silent reverence as you gently stroked his inner thigh, coaxing him to spread his legs just a bit wider to give your hand access. As you took him as deep as you could in your throat, you slid your fingers between his thighs, seeking out his most intimate spot and pressing up, thumb caressing the tender skin between his balls and he bent over, a deep growl rumbling through his chest as his knees buckled, his hand fisted hard into your hair and he came. 

His gripped the base of his cock, rocking into you, crying out your name as he spilled hot ropes of cum into your mouth, watching you swallow it hungrily, spurts of it dripping across your lips, down his hand, droplets spilling into the water as you continued to lap at his cock, completely turned on at his undoing, his flustered, flushed face flitting between orgasmic bliss and the embarrassment of having thrusted so hard down your throat. 

“Fuck, fuck…  _ FUCK! _ ” he moaned, almost hoarse, arousal still coursing through his body, hair in complete disarray as he leaned back against the timber pile before sliding slowly to his knees into the water, pulling you into a rough, passionate, emotional kiss, smiling against your teeth as he mumbled adoring gibberish at you, the water splashing about your bodies as he clung to you. You kissed him back, wanting him to taste himself on his tongue, wanting him as close as possible, wanting to pour all your love into him and you wrapped your legs around him awkwardly in the soft sand under the jetty as you held each other there for what felt like ages. 

“Fuck, Amy, that was… um, amazing. I... I’m still feeling it.” he giggled, brushing a hand tenderly down your back, cradling you against his large chest, peppering your forehead with kisses as you felt him finally start to soften against your thigh. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from.” you giggled back, cupping his face and pressing your forehead to his. He blushed, adorably. 

“My friends will be here soon, so we should probably go and make ourselves decent.” you suggested.

“Mmmm, we should.” he answered, softly. Then a pause. “I’m so glad we came here.”

“You certainly did,  _ come _ here… quite a lot…”

Adam groaned, rolling his eyes and you let out a snort against his shoulder. 

“Ok, my bad for that one. That was genuinely awful, hahaha.” you smiled back at him, both of you chucking. “Seriously though, I’m so glad we came too. And I hope we’ll come here more often. It’s… I feel like we’re both so much more relaxed, I feel way more calm, more in tune with myself. And… I like having you all to myself, no internet… no meetings…”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll make sure we do this more, make more time. Even if it means we bring scripts here or come to work here, what do you think? I never used to come so much on my own, it gets really isolating after a few days, but for the two of us, it could be our getaway?”

“Our getaway? I like it. I like it a lot.”

“I like  _ you _ . A  _ lot _ , lot...” Adam said, nudging at your nose gently before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then lifting you out the water and plopping you down on the jetty. 

“You big softy” you teased. 

“Yeah, a bit, I guess.” he smiled. “Let’s go make ourselves decent.” he pressed a kiss to your belly before hoisting himself up onto the boards and strolling up towards the house, allowing you a generous lingering look at his delicious, peachy ass, broad muscled back and long legs, hair dripping down his shoulders as he strode up the small jetty to the deck.

_ He blatantly knows I’m checking him out, the tease,  _ you grinned to yourself before picking up your towel and following him to the double doors.

***

You were just finishing laying the outside dining table on the deck when you heard the rumble of a car coming down the track to the clearing outside the house, two doors clomping shut and a familiar holler.

“Amy?” Rose’s cheery voice across the grass.

“Jon! Rose!!!” You walked up to the house and round the front to where the pair were standing, backpacks on and hands both clutching boxes of beer. Adam was coming out the front door down the wood steps - he’d been in the kitchen making a salad. In slim fit denim pants, a soft grey plaid shirt and leather boots, wavy hair all loose and uncombed and a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder he was the picture of hot outdoorsy domesticity -  _ is that even a thing Amy? No it fucking isn’t, put the dirty thoughts away for a moment! _

He was all warm smiles as he leaned down to kiss Rose on each cheek then shook Jonathan’s hand - the pair of them visibly - if discreetly - surprised at this grinning, tall man, definitely not the Adam Driver of ‘serious-face’ legend.

“Hey, welcome!” he beamed, “glad you guys could make it, was your trip ok? It’s great to really finally meet you guys properly!” 

Jonathan pulled you into a hug as Adam took Rose’s bag and the beers and you both welcomed them into the house.

“The man doth smile!” Jonathan whispered at you as you stayed back and watched the pair - Adam so tall and lumbering and Rose tiny beside him, trying to match his stride - and they walked in ahead of you, “Holy shit, Amy, he really is even hotter in real life. I barely got a look in when he came to the show, but lord, he’s like a Greek god, and so damn charming.”

“I know. Put your tongue back in your head.” you laughed, “Honestly, I also think it’s been a huge weight off his shoulders being here, he’s in even more grinning mood than I normally see, and believe me - the stern teacher-look really seems to be something he reserves for crowds.” you giggled.  _ Of course, the beaming has nothing to do with 24-hours of great sex and a film role, ahem _ , you smiled internally.

You knew Adam wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of meeting new people outside of work or his tight-knit circle, not that he was anti-social by any means, just someone who took a while to open up, trust people. But he seemed so relaxed and you could tell he was making every effort to make your friends at home, being his usual gracious and polite self as he showed Jon and Rose their rooms and gave them a brief tour.

As the pair freshened up you finished laying the table, a huge lunch spread out on the deck, a small speaker pumping out chilled acoustic guitar as the sun beat low across the water. 

“Thanks for having us, seriously, this is such a treat, Adam. I bet it wasn’t easy for both of you to find the time.” Rose said as you finally sat round, cracking open beers and tucking into the food.

“Oh, really - it’s my pleasure. I would have done it sooner, Amy’s been insistent, but, uh, well diary’s are crazy and I’m really not so great at organising shit. It’s just good to get out of the city, you know.”

“I bet. Is the show going well? Rehearsals?” Rose asked, stuffing a huge spoon of potato salad into her mouth, cheeks rosy in the sun, her eyes shining at you as she noted Adam’s arm casually slung behind your chair, his fingers stroking gently at your shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s intense, but we’re starting to delve into some really good momentum, it’s coming together, I think. I mean, I guess...I’m never really happy, like all annoying actor assholes, I’m always questioning and doubting, so I’m the worst person to ask” he chuckled, self-deprecatingly, “but yeah, it’s exciting to be back in the theatre.”

“Correction” you countered, “he’s a  _ perfectionist, _ anxiety-driven, annoying actor asshole” jabbing Adam in the shoulder and taking a sip of beer as Jonathan smiled, “who’s loathe to ever admit he’s brilliant at anything.” You were deliberately trying to make Adam blush, it worked. He bit his cheeks, looking at the floor before smiling.

“Um, yeah, yeah, that’s, uh, a pretty accurate assessment. I just feel like you can do a show night after night, and you’re still always finding new questions, new answers for the characters, for the story, like you never really finish creating the play, or perfecting it. And then it’s over and you’re left wondering… always.” he waved a hand loosely over the table, before running it through his hair, worrying at his lower lip as his eyes crinkled boyishly - his characteristic sign of trying to hide awkward nerves. You could tell he was worried he was rambling. 

Jonathan came to the rescue, “I totally get it, I did Wild Honey a while back off-Broadway, it got rave reviews from all the writers,  _ except _ one which was off, and all of us just obsessed over this one bad line, like to the point of insanity, I think I even taped it to my fridge after opening night. We didn’t even acknowledge the good reviews, it was like we binned them immediately. But then that one bad review, that was the whole thing that drove us on - to be fair, it probably made us even better, but I get the whole anxiety thing. It’s like crack for actors, right?” 

Adam laughed heartily at that, popping open another beer, starting to relax.

“Yep, see right? I totally agree! Cheers to that!” He grinned, relieved.

Moose came over to sniff for scraps from the table and Rose let out small noises of delight, before Adam latched on to the moment to ask her a ton of questions about dog training. Jonathan beamed at you again from across the table, even as Adam turned to give his full attention to Rose, his hand remained behind your chair, fingers toying at the small hairs on the nape of your neck, under your loose bun.

***

The afternoon grew long and hot, Adam stripping off his shirt down to a grey tank, boots and socks off as Rose and Jonathan also changed into swimming costumes and t-shirts, the beers floating in a cool box filled with ice were regularly replenished and once you’d cleared the table you found yourselves lolling on the beanbags and chairs by the water, conversation flowing thick and fast. 

You’d gone to sit alone by the lake for a while and watched Adam with your friends from your perch, legs dangling off the end of the jetty, Moose’s head in your lap as you caught snippets of their conversation, just enjoying watching Adam in full flow. He and Jonathan swapped stories from Julliard, Rose was telling Adam about some new artist she’d seen a show by in Williamsburg - Adam was a huge fan of contemporary painting and often went to pre-show viewings or galleries when travelling on film shoots.

You felt a wave of serenity wash over you at the scene, like a peace you’d been trying to find for years, navigating the emotional fallout of losing your father, of James and his destruction of your self-worth, your own doubts and fears. You looked down at the sweet dog whose head was in your lap, wet nose snuffling against your thigh and tail lazily wagging as you scratched behind his ear.

“I have you to thank for this, Moose. You know that right?” You nuzzled the top of Moose’s head. 

“See your daddy over there?” You looked over at Adam, Moose raising an eyebrow to follow your gaze over to his master who was sitting forward on one of the beanbags talking earnestly to Rose. “You brought him to me. You, with your terrible doggy breath and crazy jumping and insatiable appetite.” Moose looked from Adam back to you, his big brown eyes gazing up at you as he let out little whimpers of doggy happiness, sensing he’d been a “good boy” for whatever reason. You patted his head. “Yep, you. You brought me the best thing in my life, and I don’t know if I’ll ever repay you enough but I guarantee endless tummy rubs and more dirty hot dogs than you can ever imagine for the rest of your days. Promise.”

You looked back at Adam who caught your eye, the sun was almost kissing the edge of the water now it was so low and a long golden glow was cast across the deck, Adam’s skin bathed in amber. His eyes were warm and he held your gaze for a moment, a small secret smile reserved just for you as Jonathan and Rose continued some intense conversation.  _ I love him _ , you thought.  _ I love him and have to tell him, soon _ ,  _ I can’t hold it in much longer _ . You felt he could understand you from across the space and you just smiled back, heart aching. 

***

The rest of the evening stretched late into the night, Jonathan and Adam lit a fire in the pit and you and Rose went for a swim in the deepening sunset. As they watched you both paddle out from the deck chairs, Adam and Jonathan stretched back, nothing but the sound of cicadas and the slow strumming of a guitar spilling out from the small deck speaker. 

The pair had hit it off, both sharing a particularly dry, self-deprecating sense of humour and near obsessive knowledge of theatre, and Jonathan felt comfortable broaching the inevitable topic of Adam dating his best friend.

“So… uh...it seems pretty serious with you and Amy?” he ventured, looking over the water, wondering if Adam would just shut it down.

“Oh… uh, yeah. Yeah, it, um. It is. For me. Well, for her too, I mean I think both of us feel the same way.” He was flustered at the sudden turning of conversation onto him, but knowing it came from a good place he went on. “You’ve known Amy for what…?”

“Oh, since before Julliard, so I dunno… Eight, nine years? She’s the closest thing I have to a sister, we’ve been through some shit together.”

“Yeah, she talks a lot about you. Very fondly. I’m glad she has a friend like that, uh, like you. And for the show, it’s amazing for her that you’re doing it together. It’s a really cool project, I’m really excited for her, for you guys, I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too!” Jonathan trailed off. “Adam, has Amy talked to you about… uh…”

“Oh, James? Yeah we spoke yesterday. Um… I know about the situation, yes.” 

“Sorry, I know this is kind of awkward and we don’t know each other that well but, well you know, Amy is very attached to you. I mean, I see you guys together and how she’s been since you met and she’s like a new person - I don’t mean new, just… she’s happier, she’s more confident, she’s old Amy again, brilliant and more alive. You mean A LOT to her. And…None of us want another James for her.”

“I get it. You’re nervous I might be too much, or we’re going to quickly?” Adam stared at the floor, this was the pinnacle of uncomfortable for him, but sensed Jonathan needed reassurance and he certainly didn’t want anyone to think he wanted anything less for Amy than the best of the world. 

“Oh god, I realise I sound like her Dad, trust me this is as painful for me as it likely is for you… I’m not great at these things with people I don’t really know.” He laughed awkwardly, and Adam joined in, a mutual understanding between them. “Also, I know you are NOTHING like James, Jeez, sorry that wasn’t also what I was meaning, I just realised how that sounded…”

“I get it man, really. I’m almost glad you’re asking, you care about her and so do I. I… yes, it’s moving quickly. We’re both pretty surprised by it, honestly, but I think… I hope the feeling is mutual. I think it is, which continuously blows my mind.”

“It is, really. I can guarantee you that. She’s head over heels.” Jonathan butted in quickly.

“Oh… uh. Yeah, I just. You know when it just feels right? I say this like I know, but it’s actually the first time, like this… but it does just feel right. It clicked almost immediately for me. And I’m not an easy person, and the life I lead and whatever, I know that sounds really pompous and pretentious…”

“Not really, I can’t imagine you have a standard lifestyle. We’re all actors here. The work, the travel, the funny hours, the… fans…”

“Yeah… those. I mean the fans are fine, mostly harmless, it’s more...it’s more the loss of privacy, the media thing…that can really hurt.”

“She knows you would protect that for both of you.”

“Yes, it’s one of the reasons we get along, we have the same approach and beliefs on that.”

“We’ll be getting our own taste of it soon, her before me, I guess, with you guys being together, but it’s coming…”

“Yeah. We’ll work it out. I will do what I can, and I also talked to my team, they will be supportive with a lot of the privacy stuff, so I think that will help.” 

A pause.

“Adam… do you love her?”

Adam fell silent and stared hard at the floor, clutching his beer like his life depended on it.

“Yes… I do. Very much.” So quietly you could almost hear the fireflies. Like it was a relief for him to finally admit it out loud. “And if anything, or anyone damaged that, or if I sensed I wasn’t being 120% what she needs or deserves, I would walk away. I wouldn’t forgive myself. She fucking deserves the world. She matters to me, so fucking much.”

Jonathan looked out over the water, taken aback at Adam’s bold admission, then let out a long low whistle, to relieve the tension.

“Oh, you’re  _ really _ cooked, huh?”

Adam chuckled, himself almost wondering at the words he’d just spoken aloud.

“Ha, yeah, I really am. Sorry man, that was intense… even for me! I haven’t told her yet, but… yeah. I don’t know if I can keep my big mouth shut much longer.”

Jonathan smiled in the dark.

“Well, that’s my Dad lecture over. I’m really happy, man. I just… I guess I needed to voice the concern not because I doubted it, just so that you know she has people around her who care too.”

“I don’t doubt it. And I really do get it. I hope… I hope we get to hang out more. For her and for me.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Jonathan smiled, clinking his beer bottle.

“Oh, hey, you want a Scotch or something? I have some more… er… serious drinks in the cabinet inside.”

“Oh hell yeah. To Amy, she deserves us to toast that.”

You had just swum back to the deck and heard Jonathan’s voice drift over to where you were towelling yourself down by the edge, tucking the towel around you as you strolled over to where Adam was getting up to get the whisky.

“What do I deserve toasting for now?” you hollered over, eyebrow raised and giving Jonathan a mocking look and wide grin.

You swatted him on the shoulder as you walked past and caught up with Adam who was giving you the most tender, goofy look you’d seen in ages, a bit tipsy from the beer but mostly just impossibly sweet and you tucked your hand in his as he looked down at you and started to walk back to the house.

“What’s my toast for, you big soppy idiot?” you grinned up at him. 

He pulled you gently away from the deck area before wrapping an arm around you on the threshold of the french windows and pulling you in close for the sweetest of kisses, his mouth plush and warm, his heart beating wildly in his chest as you leaned into him, curling your hands up against him, kissing him back with the broadest smile on your face.

Adam pulled back, tucking a damp lock of hair from out of your eyes and cupping your cheek, his eyes shining in the pale light from the living room spilling onto the patio.

“It’s a toast to you, being the most incredible woman I know. And… because I’m completely in love with you.” he let out in a rush of breath, voice low and soft.

Your felt your heart leap into your throat, a rush of heat through your body at the words. Before you knew it you were kissing him again, with intense enthusiasm almost laughing at the shock, the happiness coursing through you.

He chuckled into your mouth, clutching you close, before you broke away to catch your breath. You looked up at him, your thoughts a complete tumble of emotion and lips breaking into a huge smile. You laced your arms around his neck and pulled him close to whisper into his ear:

“That’s good, because... I’m completely in love with you too.”


	17. Unwelcome ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which gifts are bought and next steps are taken...  
> ***  
> In which ugly ghosts from the past rear their heads...  
> ***  
> And a serious amount of tooth-rotting fluff makes our two sappy sweethearts look sugarier than a tray of Krispy Kremes.

The Monday through Wednesday following your weekend away were brutal. You had scheduling rearrangements because half the cast of one of the shows in your festival was double-booked, rehearsals started at 8 am, then university in the late afternoons and the press officer for Perry Street was starting to book you for profile pieces - which meant briefings and media training and therefore, late nights. 

Adam was also slammed back to back in longer rehearsals as well and more international phone interviews, but somehow  _ he _ was ok - cheerful on text, sounding wide awake even as you yawned, embarrassed, during your late evening phone calls through which you struggled to stay awake. You were nervous, cranky, feeling on edge and overwhelmed. Which you didn’t want to admit.

“Why don’t you come over Wednesday?” Adam asked, although it sounded more like a plea. It was 10 pm, Tuesday. You’d not seen him since he’d dropped you at yours Sunday evening on his motorbike, ahead of your insanely early Monday rehearsal call. 

“Stay a couple of nights? I can organise dinner, you can have a lazy bath, you can take the car to rehearsals in the morning so you don’t have to stress?”

He’d finally decided - not without reluctant grumbles about feeling like a pretentious dick - to allow himself the indulgence of actually using the driver at his disposal to make life easier as his schedule was getting hectic. 

It was definitely tempting.

“I miss you and...you sound anxious. Let me help?” He spoke softly, his voice like a soothing balm.

You hated admitting to already missing him, even after just two nights, but the bombshell declarations of your weekend away lingered in your mind and you couldn’t deny how empty your bed suddenly felt. How cold. 

“I’d love that. I miss you too.” You answered, stifling another slow yawn, your bones aching. “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired. How are you so  _ perky _ ? I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Oh… nothing... Just… I want to see you. It feels… I don’t know... weird not having you here since the weekend. Just… come over, I’ll be in after 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll send the car.”

“Really? Not going to have an existential crisis about it?”

You smirked down the phone and heard him smother a small snort. 

“I’ll do anything that gets you here faster...I’m… coming round to the idea of it.”

“So… I can use... _ Driver’s driver _ ? The  _ Getaway _ Driver?”

He groaned, there was an audible eye roll.

“Amy, your Dad jokes are worse than mine.”

“You love them.”

“I do.”

… A silence. Tentative. Then…

“I love you.” He almost breathed it, so quietly. You’d said it once as he’d dropped you off Sunday night, but the words still felt new, odd in your voice, on your lips, still exciting and a little scary.

“I love you too.” You whispered back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

***

You arrived at Adam’s late, dishevelled and exhausted. The door swung open and he stood there, face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, clad in nothing but a pair of indecently low slung shorts and a damp towel around his shoulders, wet hair still dripping from a shower, trickles of water running over the curves of his chest and torso. 

Christ if he didn’t get more beautiful every time you saw him. You dropped your bag and he immediately scooped you in his arms and nudged the front door shut with his foot, hoisting you up in a deep, open kiss as he carried you over to the sofa, your legs wrapping tight around his waist, hungry for him in your heightened tired and emotional state. 

You tugged at his hair, letting him know how much you wanted his touch, but he pulled away from your kiss, depositing you on the sofa before crawling over you, careful not to weigh down on you but hovering over your body, his skin inches from yours, damp but warm. He stroked your face and his eyes immediately narrowed in concern at your pale skin and tired eyes, red and puffy with exhaustion. Your skin had goosebumps and it wasn’t from arousal, despite both of you heady in each other’s presence. 

“Amy… hey, are you ok?” He was all concern, as always. You let out a deep sigh, letting your shoulders fall back. 

“I am. Honestly, it’s just….Overwhelming, it’s all a bit overwhelming right now. There’s so much going on, I’m just trying to keep my head on straight and plough through, but there’s only so many hours in the day. I feel I’m just juggling plates at the moment and they’re all about to crash.”

Adam kissed you then, manoeuvering his body to pull your legs across his lap and nestle the cushions behind you to make you more comfortable, then started to gently stroke your legs, more a soothing touch rather than erotic, calming, soft and tender, as you sank back in the sofa.

“Well. I have some thoughts on how we can maybe make things less stressful, in the long term...but first… I have Chinese food ready, all your favourites…”

“From Grand Sichuan?”

“Yup. The pork dim sum you love…”

“You absolute hero.”

“Then I’m can run you a bath so full you could swim in it, and wash your hair then we can go and sit in the back garden and listen to the traffic sounds and whatever movie the next door neighbour’s watching in his bedroom, and you can unleash all the stuff that’s stressing you, and I’ll hold you until you fall asleep. Then I’ll take you to bed. Sound good?”

_ I wish the world could clone you _ , you thought.

He curled his wide hand around your small foot, thumb stroking the pad of each toe, caressing your ankles gently, stroking up your calf as he watched you, neither of you needing to fill the silence as his palm simply stroked and grazed over your skin like a whisper. You reached out to curl your fingers in his hair and pulled him down for a sweet kiss.

“All of that sounds heavenly… But...What did you mean about long-term?”

Adam smiled then, sheepishly, his dimples creasing his face as he looked you dead in the eye,

“Let me get the dinner and bring it over…”

“But…”   
  


“Trust me.”

He got up and trotted over to the kitchen island where all the takeout boxes were on a tray and brought it over. You moved all of his scripts off the coffee table, the scribbled notes and highlighted screenplays. He was somehow still jumpy with energy, you could feel it in the silent hum around him, the nervous tension in his arms and hands, his shy smiles.

He popped the tray down on the table and you sat up properly, poking into each of the cartons to find your favourite dim sum as Adam sat himself down at the other end of the sofa and just watched you.

You’d have felt more awkward under his gaze if you weren’t so hungry, but as you reached over to grab the box of your favourite char sui dumplings, you spotted the package; a matchbox-sized gift wrapped in soft tissue paper, the word ‘Amy’ scrawled elegantly on it. 

“What’s this…?” You looked at the box, then at Adam, then back at the box, feeling a warmth creep up the back of your neck as you put down the char sui and picked up the small present instead.

Adam’s lips were pursed together in that nervous way, biting the inside of his cheek as he eyed you, hopeful.

You unwrapped the tissue and opened the small box. Inside was a set of keys on a soft leather key ring embossed with your initials, in emerald green, your favourite colour.

A set of keys.

“Adam… are these?”

“Don’t answer right away, just… think of this like a formal ‘me asking you’… if you would consider moving in with me?”

You held your breath. It was too much, and yet all at once exactly what you’d been hoping for and you knew, really, that you could answer right away. You processed the thought for a moment, brain still fuzzy with tiredness. Adam didn’t move, then you realised he was waiting for a reaction and your face was stuck in shock.

You broke into the widest smile and he immediately let out a huge sigh of relief. You flung your arms around his neck, nearly knocking a box of noodles off the table in the process.

“Adam!!!”

“They’re your keys, I mean, even if you don’t move in… just, I wanted you to have a set, so you can come around whenever you want and not have to wait on me, or whatever. You know you can treat this place as yours… uh, I was terrified this was maybe way too forward...”

“In any other circumstance I would say it was, but… weirdly it doesn’t feel forward at all, it feels… so right.” You kissed him, hard, choking back laughs even as you melted into him, senses on fire and the laugh dissolved into a softened moan as he pulled you tight, pressing you into his lap and kissed you back eagerly.

“There’s no rush, really. I just… I feel good with you, having you around, and I know it’s probably exhausting for you on top of everything else, flitting between two homes and I know your apartment was stressing you, the space… and… take your time, I don’t want to pressure you or whatever but…”

“Would you shut up?” you giggled, “I want to live with you.”

“Really?” He shivered a little, smiling almost in disbelief as you continued kissing him.

“Really. I… I’m 35 Adam, I know what I want and what I want is this, I want you and I’m willing to take the risk. It feels right... I feel it too, just like you. Let’s give this a try.”

He grinned and kissed the end of your nose, your cheeks, your temple, then brushed your hair behind your neck to press his lips there, lingering at the sweet warm spot behind your ear, lips parting and hot breath sliding over the soft curve of your neck, his tongue licking tenderly at your nape, your shoulder, teeth teasing small bites into the soft skin there as his hands slipped under your blouse to caress fingertips slowly down your spine to the curve of your ass. You pressed your lips to his warm skin, played with the damp tendrils of his hair between your fingers.

“Amy, you have no idea how happy that makes me…” he mumbled against your shoulder, between open mouthed kisses, “I was kind of dreading this… in case you freaked out. Or… mmmmm…. I don’t know, tipped the noodles over my head and blinded me with a chopstick or something.”

You giggled, “I’d never waste good food like that, I’d have just kneed you in the balls. Then taken the food with me as I ran away.”

Adam laughed at that, before resuming his tender assault on your skin, sliding the sleeve of your blouse down and reaching up into the front to cup your breast in his hand. 

You looked at the keys in your hand, heart racing with happiness between the proposal he’d just made and the feel of his strong hand delicately palming your breast, his fingers plucking at your swollen bud through the gauzy fabric of your bra, stroking over the tip, thumb tracing the soft curve where it met your ribs. You let out a breathy moan, your heart beating wildly and mouth dry.

You looked at the keys again…there was a heavier one on the ring, old-fashioned looking, like for a music box or an old chest. You tapped Adam on the shoulder, breathless, trying to focus. 

“Hey, what’s the fourth key? I don’t recognise that one?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh, I nearly forgot… you’re… very distracting.” He harumphed slightly and had to rearrange himself in his shorts, his erection solid against your thigh as you studied the keys, still sitting firmly in his lap.

You giggled as he reluctantly pulled away from his ministrations, shifted you slightly off his knees and slid your blouse back up gently. 

“Come with me… then we can, uh, resume all that after dinner… _ please. _ ” He kissed you gently.

“Ok, Mysterio…it’s a deal.” you chuckled. He took your hand and you followed him off the couch to the staircase where he led you up to the large office beside his ( _ your?) _ bedroom.

This was Adam’s study / office / chill out room where he often came to read in quiet, go over scripts, handle paperwork and personal admin. It contained all his old books from Julliard and old scripts, playbills, movie props from productions, AITAF materials, his awards on a shelf, his laptop and PC, some boxes. His desk was a sturdy, Danish, teak-carved piece from a vintage store somewhere. But a new addition had appeared by the bay window at the far end of the room. 

An elegant, mid-century oak writing bureau, painted a deep fern green, and 1950s writing chair were now positioned in the corner. The desk had a small keyhole in its carved lid which you knew would reveal a leather-lined writing surface and series of small drawers and cubby holes for letters, books, writing materials. It was absolutely gorgeous.

Adam stood behind you, his hands resting lightly on your hips, watching you from behind as you took everything in feeling his eyes on you, eager and delirious as he imagined your smile. 

“It’s your desk.” He whispered. “For writing, studying, whatever you want to use it for... Open it.” 

You took a short breath, squeezing his hand on your hip tightly before letting go as you took the key and walked over to the desk. It fit in the lid perfectly and you pulled it down, revealing all of the desk’s details, the lacquered inlays and polished wood. Tucked in one of the small nooks, a book. You picked it up, feeling the ridge of the leather-bound spine. It was Tennessee Williams’ Streetcar Named Desire, the script. It was a signed first edition. 

Your breath hitched. 

A bookplate on the inner cover was signed simply:

_ To Amy, you’ve thrown me for a loop and I never want to recover. Love, Adam. x _

You crumpled then, shocked at the kind gesture, the unexpectedly romantic words that made you blush furiously, the overwhelmedness of before compounded in the moment. It wasn’t just the gift, it was the meaning behind it.

“Adam… I…” You turned to face him, the wet glistening in your eyes betraying your emotions. Adam circled his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, wrapping you in the warmest embrace as he whispered “I love you so much” into your hair. 

“You told me, when you came over that time for barbecue… I guess, it was sort of a date? You told me that when you went to see Streetcar with your Dad as a teenager you knew you wanted to go into theatre. You told him straight after the show that there was nothing else you wanted to do. I know how much you miss him.”

“You remembered that?” you asked, your voice so small.

“Of course. I remember every detail of that day. I wanted to kiss you from the moment you arrived and spent the whole evening debating whether I should make a move or if I was completely misreading the entire connection. But I remember every word you said.”

You turned and put the book down gently on the desk and dropped the keys beside it, admiring the desk again, waiting. A prickly heat rose up your chest, gathering in the dip of your neck, making your palms clammy. You could feel Adam shifting behind you, leaning even closer into you as your fingers traced the edge of the bureau, swallowing the emotion that was raging inside you. 

He gently swept the hair from your neck, his arm sliding tighter around your waist as his bare chest pressed against your back, pulling you close. You felt his thighs against the base of your spine, felt him grow hard as he rocked gently against your rear, his chin dip as he lowered his head to trace the curve of your ear with the tip of his tongue, nibbling your earlobe with his teeth, the slight stubble of his chin tickling your neck. His other hand reached up to gently slide the sleeve of your blouse down, ever-so-slowly, over your shoulder and along your arm, tugging the thin bra strap down with it. Together your fingers met at the buttons on the front as you gently undid each one, taking your time, the soft pads of Adam’s fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs, your belly, your breasts and he exhaled warmly against your skin. You leaned your head back against his chest, turning your cheek to meet his lips with yours, burning hot, his mouth soft, pliant and open, his tongue eager and hungry as it pushed into the sweetness between your lips, all honey and caramel, his cock now achingly stiff, your inner thighs damp and slippery, panties soaked. 

Your blouse dropped to the floor, pooling at your feet as Adam’s fingers trailed lightly over the soft swell of your belly, nudging your legs apart gently with his thigh as he licked into your mouth, his kisses sloppy and charged with need, drawing little moans from you as you rocked back against his length. He curled one large hand around your throat, keeping your head turned back to him so he could kiss you deeper as you pressed your ass harder against him, drawing a deep, possessive growl from him, rumbling against your back. The hand tracing circles along the edge of your skirt and panties slipped down past the cotton, sliding through the damp curls of your sex as he whimpered, feeling the soaked fabric between your legs, the sticky heat of your slicked pussy. He thrust up against your ass harder now, breath ragged as you leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

His fingers slid slowly along the slicked folds of your sex, teasing them, dipping a finger into the wetness, just barely, before returning to stroke up each lip. You arched back further, your hand reaching round to tug Adam’s shorts down and curl around his thick, hot shaft, hard and heavy against your palm, your mind delirious as he taunted you, stroking you everywhere except where you needed his fingers most. 

He pulled your skirt and panties down, then nudged your legs apart wider, curling you forward to press just the bare tip of his cock against your entrance, the fat head kissing against your glistening folds as his fingers circled the lips of your sex, literally dripping with arousal. He was driving you wild, his mouth insistent, your tongues dancing, lips swollen and cherry pink before he finally, FINALLY, buried himself inside you to the hilt as his fingers, now glossy from your juices, found your clit and stroked. The surprise and deep rush of pleasure caused your knees to buckle and a high cry to escape from your throat.

His body enveloped yours as he thrust inside you, bent fully over the desk, his fingers now relentless as he stoked the fire inside you, teasing, stroking your swollen clit, hyper sensitive and throbbing under his play. The rhythmic sensation of him filling you, over and over as he rocked inside you, his broad strong body pressed warm against you, his kisses searing and a tumble of filthy words moaned against your skin had your whole body trembling. You reached back and pulled at his hair, knowing how much it turned him on when you tugged him hard and his teeth sank into your shoulder, stifling a moan, his cock plunging even deeper into you, the hand around your hip gripping as if for dear life.

Your orgasm crashed into you with a brutal force as you shattered around his cock, his arms bracing you tight against him as you clenched around him with an urgent force, pushing him over the edge. He came with a shout, pulling you back against his shaft, fingers still teasing your clit even as you shook with the overwhelming sensations and your whole body was a live wire. He stilled then, cock pumping warm cum inside you, filling you, his chest heaving, skin sweaty and flushed, mouth kissing you sweetly in his come down as the tightening walls of your pussy milked him, your little shudders squeezing him, both of you blissed out and tingling. 

You stayed a few moments, curled into each other, bodies damp and warm, breaths evening out as Adam brushed his hands softly over your skin, pressing kisses over the areas where he’d bitten you before, whispering ‘I love yous’ into your ear. 

He slid out of you gently, a warm dribble of cum trickling down your thigh as he turned you and pulled you into an embrace, kisses so tender on your flushed cheeks and mussed hair, a shy smile playing on his lips as you kissed him back. Eventually he kneeled down and cleaned the stickiness between your legs gently with your discarded skirt as you ran your fingers through his messed up locks, before he bundled the fabric up in his hand and lifted you up in a bridal carry. He carried you down the hall, into  _ your _ bedroom and through to the en-suite bathroom, resting you down by the giant tub, dropping your dirty clothes in the laundry basket on the way.

***

Later, in the warmth of the deep bath, you nestled back into him, between his legs, his body stretched out behind you in the soapy water as he rubbed shampoo into your hair. 

“So how do we work this? I have a month’s notice on my apartment. I’ll need time to arrange furniture removals and I probably want to sell some of my stuff because it’s all mostly rubbish anyway… and where will my things go? I… um, what about contributing to the finances… there’s so many things Adam… I’m…”

“Hey, hey, we can answer these, one at a time, don’t worry. So… first things first, contributing to the apartment. First off, it’s paid, I don’t have a mortgage, so I expect nothing. It would be grossly unfair, given my earnings and yours. But… 

“... Adam I’m not at all comfortable with…”

“I know, I know you aren’t. I was getting to that… look. I know you would NEVER agree to living here for free, and I don’t entertain the idea of you feeling some kind of imbalance in that sense, but let’s be honest. I have money and the means, your situation is totally different. I want to be open about my finances with you, there’s no point hiding it, I don’t want to hide anything from you if we are living together. How about we work out an area where you are able and happy to contribute to us living together? Something manageable,that way we are both contributing, but within our respective means. And, hey, as situations change we can keep revisiting it?”

“Yes. Fine. That sounds fair, ok. I can agree to that. I… look, for now let’s just see how it goes just living together. Also… I love your apartment, but it is yours and… well, I like my space, my things. I… I want to feel like there’s a bit of me here too… how do we work that?”

“I agree, I want it to be our place… I know that will take time, it’s very… uh, bachelor paddy…”

“You say that, but... I think it’s a while since you saw a realistic bachelor pad” you chuckled, “this is… slightly cut above the average.” You turned to shoot him a sarcastic smirk. He grinned back, sheepish.

“Yeah, ok… I know… I’m lucky. And by the way, it was totally an interior designer who did this, or it would be a massive unfashionable disaster, probably grey and mismatched everything. But… seriously. Going forwards, I want it to feel like your home, properly. So… I’m thinking of maybe moving some bits around, I can put some stuff in storage, artwork and things so you can bring the pieces that matter to you? I want your things here, your colours and furniture and stuff. And your books I’ll make space for of course… but there’s one other thing...”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say much if you weren’t so keen on moving in, but… about four months ago my neighbour across the hall, who owns the basement apartment below me, put it on the market. The realtor for the building contacted me and I put in an offer. I always had an idea when I got this place to do some work on it… so… I was thinking, we could… look at plans together? There’s no rush, but I basically own the space, I just haven’t had the time really to look into it. Then you and I could each have our own spaces, properly, to work, study, chill out when we both need our own time?”

You swivelled to face Adam in the bath, your hair bunched on your head in a soapy lather, wisps stuck to your damp cheeks, eyes glowing. You curled into a half cross-legged seated position between his hips, hands on his chest, beaming. He smiled at you now, his eyes golden and shining as he cupped your face.

“Are you serious?” You grinned. “That… that would be incredible! I… I think otherwise we’d maybe drive each other nuts, I mean… if we’re both stressing and work is overwhelming. And you’d be happy, us doing the planning together? I mean… it’s a big thing…”

“It’s early, we don’t have to map it all out right now, but yes. I’d be happy. We can look at plans, have some fun, you’re probably way better at this than me - and Hannah basically knows all these people, designers whatever, we can get an architect to look at it, but yes. I was going to do it anyway, but if we do it, let’s do it together… we can look at some things now, throw some ideas around, then maybe once Medea is over and your show is finished we can both focus on it properly and get some plans drawn up?”

“I… don’t even know what to say. It’s… yeah, let’s cross that bridge, but yes. I’d… I’d love it.”

“You don’t have to say anything right now. You already said yes to moving in with me, which I’m going to have to pinch myself about every day for the next I don’t know how many days. So the rest we can figure out as we go along…”

“I love you. You know that?” You planted a wet kiss on his mouth, slipping in the tub as you both laughed and water sloshed all over the floor. 

“I do. I’m still pinching myself about that too…I love you. So much.” He was all goofy, wet hair stuck flat on his face, ears peaking out from under his damp locks and the stubble on his chin glistening with specks of water and bubbles from your shampoo. His thick, strong arms pulled you to him as you turned fully flush against him in the tub, the slippery softness of your skin pressed against his solid, muscular body as you felt his growing arousal against your lower belly. He kissed you, nibbling at your bottom lip gently with his teeth, searching for your tongue with his, his lips tasting slightly of red fruits and soap as his hands slid lower in the water to squeeze your bum playfully, wanting you as close to him as possible. “Why don’t we get Hannah to sort removals stuff, since we’re both super busy. If she arranges a weekend delivery and packing, you and I can… maybe, uh, go to the lake house with Moose whilst they handle the removals?”

“Yes. To all of it. Double yes. I’ll talk to my landlord in the morning. And… on another matter… down the line, I’d like if you helped me arrange proper representation… I was talking with Kelly, the press rep for Perry Street. If this show goes well and it leads to other things, I think I need to move past my really lame Julliard portfolio and organise myself a proper agent. If… you know… I were to go back to theatre, properly So I might need a Randi, or a Hannah of my own...”

Adam looked at you, an eyebrow raised in surprise. Then broke into a huge grin.

“Firstly, I think your show will go VERY well. But secondly… are you serious about the theatre? Going back to it properly? I mean I think you should but…”

“I’m thinking about it. I’ve never felt more alive or confident since I’ve been working on the festival, it’s like all the things I was working towards when I was younger, when I came out of Julliard. I’m going to have to put a pause on studies to focus on this show because I can’t juggle both, but if more opportunities come up, then yes… I want to have another run at it.”

“You amaze me.” Adam sighed. “Of  _ course _ I would help, you know that. Always. I’ll talk to Hannah. I mean,  _ we _ will talk to Hannah.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  
  


Adam popped a kiss on your nose, then pressed a slower, more sensuous kiss to your lips. 

“Now… this bath water is getting cold, and your hair needs rinsing. So… we’re going to rinse this shampoo out...And then…” 

He dropped his voice lower, almost purring as he nudged his erection into your belly and slid a hand round to cup between your legs as you drew your nails down across the hard planes of his chest… 

“then I am going to take you to bed, and I’m going kiss you... here...” 

A finger slid between your folds, slipping softly over your clit, already sensitive and throbbing.

“...and I’m going to taste you, and I’m going to take my time over it, nice and slow, because you taste so good, like oranges… and then...” 

He slid a long finger inside you, stroking you gently, curling the digit up to tease your most sensitive spot as you clenched around him, painfully aroused. 

“Then, I’m going to lick you until I make you come. I want to make you come, Amy, I want to hear you…” 

You stopped him with a kiss, so hungry for his touch you grabbed his hair, tilting his head back and pushed your tongue into his mouth with force, biting, teasing, nails digging against his skin. 

“Rinse the fucking shampoo off now, and stop talking already…” you whimpered as Adam chuckled and fumbled to wash the suds from your hair as quickly as possible before you both stood up in the tub and he lifted you straight out the water and over to the bed, bodies dripping, before he laid you down and proceeded to do  _ exactly  _ as he had promised. 

***

The following morning, between your early rehearsal (which you got to on time, thanks to the Getaway Driver) and your afternoon shift at the rescue centre, where you planned on updating Rose on your news, you called your landlord. You gave your notice, excitedly. 

Adam spoke to Hannah who agreed to come round that evening to discuss sorting removals and talk about perhaps adding you to her services in terms of personal finance and admin, to get her advice on representation.

You set a date for a move-in weekend three weeks down the line and Adam cleared his schedule to allow you a couple of nights up at the lakehouse. 

You were walking on air. The exhaustion of the early week had dissolved, like a weight had fallen from your shoulders and you practically skipped into the rescue centre, eyes bright, body lighter. The world had a whole new glow to it. 

It wasn’t to last.

When you got through the doors of the centre, Rose was stood at the reception desk, a magazine in hand and a look of awkward confusion, tinged with anger, on her face. She swallowed as you walked in and you immediately felt yourself on guard.

“AMY!” she almost barked, looking nervous and clumsily hiding the magazine behind her, as if you wouldn’t notice the move.

“What’s up Rose? I have news… but… it looks like you do to?”

“ME?” she practically squeaked. “Erm…”

“Rose, you have the worst poker face I’ve ever seen. What’s wrong?”

“It’s. Oh, god Amy. I…”

You were up by the counter now and tried to reach behind Rose to take the magazine from her.

“Rose, seriously, this is childish. What’s going on?” You were panicked, you sensed there really was something upsetting and it involved you. You needed to know.

“Let me just call someone over… uh, we can go talk in the office. You don’t want us to have this conversation here.”

“Ok… what the hell…?”

Rose buzzed someone on the team out the back over the desk radio to come and cover reception for a moment before you both walked to the small office in the back. Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as Rose strode quickly to the tiny room.

She closed the door and turned to face you.

“Amy. Before I show you, just… have a seat. And. Um… Is Adam at rehearsal? You might want to go home after this, I just… you shouldn’t be alone.”

“Jesus, Rose you’re fucking killing me here. What is it?”

She stood stock still, shocked at your words, then silently handed the magazine over. It was US Weekly. She’d thumbed over the corner of a page somewhere near the front. 

“Just… don’t shoot the messenger, ok? I’m here to help.”

You opened the magazine to the relevant page and it fell open on your knees. At first you were taken by a full page advert for a face cream brand on one side. Then your eyes slid to the other page. It was the “Celebrity News” gossip page. And there in the top left, a small picture you recognised only too well, your “tripping” picture from the awards party, the one taken by the secretive paparazzi. Underneath, in a small cut out, was a face that made you almost drop the magazine on the floor and caused your stomach to lurch with a wave of nausea. 

“That’s James.” you stated, your mouth hanging open, shocked. Not daring to breath for a moment as your eyes scanned over his small face, the ice cold blue eyes and squared jaw. 

You shuddered, stomach churning.

“What the fuck?” 

Rose just watched you and bit her bottom lip, looking nervous, eyes flitting and blinking as you sat, trembling and started to read.

_ “US Weekly gets an exclusive scoop on AMY MYERS, recently spotted on the arm of none other than Hollywood’s most in-demand star, Adam Driver and rumoured to be his secret girlfriend. Ex-partner James reveals all about the mystery redhead…” _

“REVEALS ALL? For fuck’s sake. What the …shit, I can’t even believe this. I…” You were fuming, and distressed, tears forming in your eyes in disbelief, incomprehension.

_ “ - Amy and I dated through college, and let’s just say, Adam is in for a WILD ride, because this girl is pretty crazy. When we were together she underwent severe mental health issues which often caused her to drink’ - says James, himself an actor at Ohio’s Columbus Theatre. James, who dated Amy for several years before a split, claims he had to leave ‘due to her volatile and jealous nature, I tried to help, but she was too much for me.’ _

_ Indeed, Amy and Adam’s only public outing to date, at the recent Young Writers Awards at CArnegie Hall, saw the couple appearing dishevelled and drunk after partying into the early hours. Amy, whose father passed away and is now estranged from her mother (also said to be an alcoholic) is rumoured to be working on a theatre production, despite a failed career in acting after graduating from Juilliard. US Weekly can only assume that dating Driver has its perks, as well as being the hottest man in cinema, he also has a raft of industry connections having worked with some of the most important directors in the business, which Amy is clearly taking full advantage of. _

_ But with Adam known for his intense personality and troubled childhood, will the pair last or is this just a brewing ‘star war’ waiting to explode?”  _

You wanted to vomit. Your heart was racing so fast you felt dizzy, hands moist and shaking as you read and re-read the poisonous words, the lies, the insinuations. The sheer crassness of James’s actions ripping through you, just when you’d thought you’d almost forgotten him. The hurt he was still able to cause.

You let out a sob, the magazine dropping to the ground, and the tears began to fall.

Rose immediately stood by you, curling an arm around you as you fell against her, her hand squeezing your shoulder as she shushed you.

“Hey... hey, Amy. I’m so sorry. It’s… he’s awful.  _ So _ awful. I mean, I knew you’d told me he was a horrible person, but this is unreal! This is beyond anything I would have expected.”

She knelt down and wiped the hair from your face, then pulled you into a hug. You shook as you leaned into her, allowing the tears to fall freely, needing to let the pain out. 

“I can’t believe it Rose. It’s like… it’s like he knows the  _ exact  _ moment to make it hurt most. Even now. Two years on. This is what he does. He’s such a piece of shit, he wouldn’t come near me, but this is what he does. Lies and manipulation from afar. KNowing where to twist the knife”

“It’s so fucking weak. But so hurtful. Amy… hey, shhhhh, shhhhh…. Come on. Let’s get you a tissue.” 

Rose fussed over you, putting the kettle on and sorting you with a Kleenex as you reread the article for the third time, hands still shaking uncontrollably. 

“Amy, you should go home. Don’t worry about the shift, there’s enough of us here that we can get through the afternoon. But… can you call Adam? Or Jonathan? Have someone be there when you get in?”

“Adam… Oh god, Adam.”

Rose handed you another tissue as you wiped your eyes, and straightened your hair. 

“What the hell do I do with this, and Adam. Rose?”

“Call him. Call him now. You know he won’t believe a word of this. Anyone who knows you knows it’s shit.”

“I know Rose, but… I can’t call him. I’m so embarrassed. This is…. What am I bringing on to this relationship? This is the sort of fucking drama I hate, that he has actively worked to avoid for years. And I come along, and THIS fucking shit happens. I mean, the article even talks about Adam’s childhood, like how FUCKED up is that. What does James know? What the fuck does US Weekly know! Why is that relevant to anyone?”

“AMY! This is NOT your drama. Adam WILL. NOT. CARE. I promise you. This is James’s drama, and it’s completely ridiculous and shitty and it’s printed in a heap trash magazine anyway. Give Adam the credit he deserves that he would NEVER hold this against you, and I don’t know him even the tiniest bit as well as you do.”

“Maybe Rose, but this is my fucking career James is shitting on. Everything I’m working for. He’s even mentioned the production, which is under embargo! The Perry Street team will be so angry about this. I was only just getting started, just starting to dream about this becoming something for me.”

Rose held you again and let you ramble through your anger, cursing it out, your pain and hurt rapidly converting to righteous anger. Eventually, as she made you a tea and sat with you for several more minutes you started to calm. You were better than this. You had your work, you were making a success of your life. What did James have? Jealousy? Envy? A need to control and manipulate even from halfway across the States?

  
  


You took several deep breaths, you were still terrified and shamed, but had to deal with it and not run away. 

“Call Adam, Amy. Please.” Rose pleaded with you. 

“He’ll be in rehearsal, I don’t want to disturb him.”

“Amy. CALL HIM. Even if you don’t see him, just let him know he needs to be there for you later.”

“Rose…”

“Yes?”

“You know he asked me to move in with him? Last night?”

“WHAT?”

“Yes. I have keys. I gave my landlord notice. Hannah, Adam’s PA, is arranging the move. It’s… I had so much to tell you when I got here, so many things and everything was going to be amazing and now I’m dragging this in. It’s….” You trailed off.

Rose looked at you, like a stern mother, and wiped a single tear threatening to fall again over your recently dried cheeks.

“Right. You are calling Adam RIGHT NOW, then you are getting in a cab and going to his. I’ll clock off early, I’ll make some excuse and join you in a couple of hours and wait with you until he gets home. And while we wait you are going to tell me ALL of the amazing things, because Amy, THOSE are what you deserve and what you are going to have, and James will be exposed for all the shit things that he is.” Another stern look. “OK?”

Your voice was tiny when you finally relented.

“Ok.”

***

You reached for your phone in your bag and, fingers still shaky, reached for the speed dial to Adam. It rang out for ages, you know it was most likely on silent, buried in his backpack. But then it picked up. He sounded out of breath.

“AMy, is everything ok?” He sounded worried, he knew you’d never call him during a rehearsal if it wasn’t important. You tried not to give way to the tremble in your voice.

“Adam… it’s… um. When does your rehearsal finish?” your voice came out high pitched and distant.

“Uh, I don’t know, I think we’re on til about 7 o’clock. Why? Amy? You sound… weird, what’s wrong. Has something happened?”

You didn’t know where to start. YOu felt embarrassed again. Steeled yourself.

“Adam, please. When you finish can you come straight home? To yours... Ours. I don’t know… um, I’m skipping work. Rose is coming with me. To, uh, wait with me.”

“Amy what’s wrong, pelase, you’ve got me worried.” He sounded terrified. 

“It’s… It’s James…”

“James. Your ex, James? Amy is he there? Did he try and hurt you?” You heard the phone shake, Adam’s voice tinged with a sudden anger, laced with concern.

“No, no… no he’s not here at all. He’s. God, I’m so ashamed, Adam. He’s spoken to the press. He’s given a tell-all statement to US Weekly. And… it’s all lies, please believe me, but… it’s just. It hurts Adam. It hurts so much. And he talks about you. And makes accusations…”

“He WHAT? WHat the fuck???”

“I’m sorry Adam, I’m so sorry…” Your voice nearly disappeared down the line, you felt terrified all of a sudden.”

“Amy, no, don’t apologise. I’m not mad at you, oh my god, no, I wasn’t getting mad at you, please, baby, it’s ok. I’m just. I don’t give a shit what James said, I’m just… seriously, is this guy for real? Ok… wait, let me see if I can wrap up early.”

“No, I don’t expect you to do that… Adam, just… just come home when you finish. I’m with Rose, it’s ok.”

“It’s not OK. I’m not ok with you feeling like this and with what James has done. I don’t want you alone for this - I’m…” he broke off, making sure he was somewhere quiet, then spoke more softly. “I promised you we would navigate this together, and this is early days. The media live for this shit, so this is one of those hurdles, and it’s nasty. I promised I’d be there, so I will be.”

“Adam… don’t sacrifice your rehearsal for this… please.”

“Amy, somewhere down the line there’ll be a day when you brush this off and you’ll be in a space where you’ll know how to deal with it and it’ll be ok, but that’s not today. I’m not letting you be alone today. Not wtht what I know about this guy, ok? Is Rose with you?

“Yes. She can meet me in an hour at home.”

“Ok, good. Why don’t you go home and wait with Rose. Moose is there, he’ll be happy to see you. I’ll get out of rehearsal as soon as I can, it’s not even a problem. I’ll get Hannah to get a copy of the magazine, she probably has it on her radar already. She’ll get the PR guys onto this.”

“Adam… I’m so embarrassed. I had no idea he could actually sink to this level…”

“I’m not worried for me Amy. I want to make sure you’re ok. You’ve got the show to promote, we’re not going to let this piece of shit hurt that in anyway. Amy, I love you. You’ll be fine. You’re amazing, don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” You wiped your nose, straightening your shoulders. Feeling calmer, feeling a sense of control work it’s way back through your body. You knew it wouldn't last but it would get you through the afternoon. “Thanks, Adam. I love you too.”

“I’ll see you soon, ok? I’ll message you when I’m on my way.”

“Ok. I’ll see you later.”

*** 

At 7pm on the dot, Adam walked in through the door, Hannah on his trail. You and Rose were sat on the large sofa by the fireplace, she’d wrapped you in the blanket and you were cradling Moose on your lap, both of you drinking tea and working your way through a huge pack of chocolate chip cookies. 

Hannah had several copies of US Weekly in her hands and dumped them on the kitchen counter before rushing over to pull you into a hug as Adam strode over right behind her. 

“Amy! Oh, sweetheart, don’t you go worrying about this piece of shit!” Hannah exclaimed as she saw how sheepish you looked, tucked in the wool throw, your face a shock of embarrassment and awkwardness.

“You read it?”

“Oh boy, I did. This guy’s really is a piece of work, huh?” she said, a reassuring smile on her face as she dumped her bag by the coffee table then introduced herself to Rose.

Adam leant down to kiss you, pulling you close as he scooted down beside you on the sofa, nodding a thank you at Rose for having sat with you. He ruffled Moose’s hair, turning to look you in the eye, almost to reassure himself you were genuinely ok. 

Rose made her excuses to leave, knowing you needed to talk to Adam and Hannah and talk about next steps. Adam gave her a hug, thanking her again, profuself and you promised to catch up with her properly over the weekend as she let herself out. 

Adam got up and went to pour himself, and you, a large Scotch and ice. Hannah didn’t mess about and got straight down to business.

“I won’t stay long” she said, “I’m sure you guys want to talk things through, but I spoke to Adam on the way over, and I’ll leave you to think about this, but… I want to reassure you, from a professional stand point, this article is total rag shit. I bet you’re worrying about it, but believe me, this sort of stunt is a dime a dozen. Whether people believe a word of it or not, itll be forgotten tomorrow.”

You didn’t speak, but it was impossible to hide the anger in your eyes. Hannah anticipated that straight away.

“Now, the person who DOESN’T forget it tomorrow, is you. And what James has done, is not right. And you have options. You could look at suing for libel, but that would be costly and frankly, make this a bigger story than it is.

“No, no… oh my god no. I would never. He doesn’t deserve that attention.” you practically spat. “And I don’t want any more noise over this than there already is. I’m certainly not dragging Adam into this, it gives it more importance than it should ever have.”

“Good. I figured you’d say that. You’re an intelligent woman.”

Adam wrapped his arm around you, and picked up.

“The other option, which I think might be good… if you’re up for it. Is a counter profile. Like, an interview. We can time it to coincide with the announcement of your show, which is what, in two weeks?”

“Yeah, ten days. But… I don’t know if I want to address this article... “

“You wouldn’t have to. We don’t even have to mention the article or James. It’s just a well timed interview that shows you, who you are, in your own words, not someone else’s. You steer the conversation. You own the narrative. With the show about to start it will be timely, there’s already press interest, because…”

“Because we’re dating.”

He blushed, but it was true. You all knew that in the room. You could work it to your advantage.

“Yes.” Hannah chipped back in. “People want to know more about you, and this is your chance to tick all the boxes and guess what… if we do this in a serious title, then James’s little outburst is going to look like the ridiculous sham it is.”

You thought about it. You liked the idea. But you had conditions. 

“I’m happy to do it, Hannah we’d have to coordinate with my press rep at Perry Street -”

“Kelly? I know her, we’ve worked together before, don’t worry I’ll bring her on board.”

“Ok… but I have some thoughts. First…I want Jonathan to do the interview with me. He is half of the show and my right hand man on the production. I want it to be about us as a team. THat will make it look less like a direct response piece. Also, he deserves his credit.”

“I totally agree.” Adam nodded, and Hannah consented. It was the right thing.

“Secondly. And I would prep this completely in advance with both of you. But if I do this, I have to address Adam properly. I want to control the article fully, and they will ask about you, about us. I don’t want them making up their own story, so I want to anticipate it.”

You took Adam’s hand, needing his permission. 

“Ok.” He said, taking your hand and stroking the back of your knuckles gently. He gave you a little squeeze, checking Hannah to see if she agreed. She nodded. “I’m ok with that. We can prepare statements, agree what you say and make sure we’re both happy with it, but of course they will ask, and yes, it’s better to give them information in a way we control than let them make up rumours.”

“You’re sure?” 

“I’m sure. We’re together. You’re moving in. There’s going to be more public appearances and frankly, we’re not hiding away. If we control it, we can manage it. You don’t have to give loads of detail, just enough that we prevent the sort of stupid fucked up shit James is writing…”

“I’m so sorry about him…”

“Amy, don’t even apologise. It’s clear he’s just trying to get some attention off the back of… all this…”

“But he talked about your childhood… that was so wrong.” You looked at the floor and he immediately pulled you to him.

“Hey! Hey, it’s ok. You think that’s the first article that tried to talk about my parents? I’ve been asked so many times… he’s not invented anything new there. I don’t give a crap. It’s fine. Really. I promise you.”

“You sure?”

“150%. Let’s focus on you.”

“Ok.”

You sorted out a few more details with Hannah who promised to go away and speak to Kelly and sort out an article placement for you within the next few days. Then she made to leave. You were tired and needed some alone time now to process your thoughts, to have Adam to yourself.

Adam was making no mask of wanting to be alone with you too, his endearingly obvious impatience coming to the fore as Hannah started getting ready to leave. He’d been shaken too by the turn of events, not for himself, but seeing how much it hurt you and - had James been even remotely in his orbit - the guy would have been on the receiving end of a tsunami of volatile outrage. 

If you’d been nervous about the impact of the article, which he’d never forgive James for, having never even met him, it was nothing to how angry Adam felt, how scared it made him, at every moment that he feared the hurt would push you away from him. He was determined to make sure you understood how much he never wanted to let that happen. If it took him days, months, or years to make sure you understood. He would do anything to make you understand how loved you were, how much you gave Adam something to lose, something more important than anything else on this earth.

As soon as Hannah had left he came back to the couch and, without a word, pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you as he sank down on the pillows and kissed the top of your head. He was well and truly gone for you and planned on spending the entire night showing you just how much.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, have I mentioned that already? I love you all for your amazing words, loyalty to this fic, kudos, comments, support and the hellos on [my Tumblr!](https://doodleswords.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Hope you are also enjoying the mood boards! There is smut in this chapter, but really, mostly just achingly sweet cinnamon roll fluff because that's just the mood I am in!!! Let's all get goofy over these two doofuses!
> 
> As ever, I don't own Adam etc, etc. 
> 
> I'm sorry for how long this chapter took, and for delays in responding to people's lovely words, but I promise I am not going to leave this fic hanging unfinished!


	18. "The Glare"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy and Jonathan get their profile in Brooklyn Magazine  
> ***  
> In which Adam stabs at a steak. And almost stabs a journalist.  
> ***  
> In which the poisonous ex- gets what's coming to him.  
> ***  
> I don't own Adam, or have anything remotely at all do with him or his life. He is single in this AU. It is pure fiction, with no disrespect to his and our queen Joanne.  
> ***  
> I'm currently posting every second Sunday. If this changes I am posting chapter updates on Tumblr under https://www.tumblr.com/blog/doodleswords - also sneak peeks. Come say hi!

_ (Recap chapter 17 - Adam asks Amy to move in, buys her a gift of a writing desk and signed first edition of Streetcar Named Desire. They discuss move-in plans and all is going well, until James, Amy’s poisonous ex- gives a tell-all article to US Weekly prompting anxiety. Amy, Adam and Hannah, Adam’s PA agree to arrange a profile piece about you and your upcoming show as a subtle counter-piece to James’s attack) _

  
  


Ten days later, you and Jonathan were sat in a suite at the trendy William Vale hotel awaiting the arrival of the arts columnist from Brooklyn magazine. Hannah had secured a profile piece in their online magazine, a suitably hipster, well-read arts and culture title that loved being the first to feature up and coming artists. You were nervous and trying not to show it, thankful for AK - who had leant her services to come and do both of your hair and make-up - and her constant cheerful chatter. Hannah - on hand as ever with a non-stop stream of triple-shot Americanos - was fussing over both of you and making endlessly reassuring noises. 

A photographer was setting up in the corner. You and Jonathan had been styled - sort of - via numerous video phone calls with Michael who’d also sent over clothes for you both. A funky denim jumpsuit for you, and a denim tailored suit for Jonathan with a vintage hot pink polo shirt underneath - some local independent designer, appropriately ‘urban hip’ for the piece. You loved it, but at the same time it all felt surreal, not quite you. 

Still, you were amazed at the transformation from your frazzled bed head, tired eyes and the stress outbreak on your chin you’d woken up with that morning to sleek, composed, put together young creatives that AK managed to turn you into with just a box of make-up and products. Jonathan looked like he’d stepped out of a GQ fashion shoot. You both laughed when you looked at each other in the hotel bathroom mirror.

“What the hell? You and I have never looked this good. Let’s just never get out of these clothes, ever.” you joked.

“I know, right? Can I take AK with me? Everywhere? In my pocket? I mean, I thought I knew how to dress, and now I’m really not so sure…”

Adam was in rehearsals, but had sent you a flurry of reassuring text messages as soon as you’d left his apartment that morning that all came through as you arrived at the hotel.

“YOU’LL BE BRILLIANT AS ALWAYS. BE YOURSELF… OK - YOU DON’T NEED ME TO SAY STUPID CLICHÉ SHIT LIKE THAT. I LOVE YOU. SAY HI TO JONATHAN. COUNTING DOWN TO THIS WEEKEND ALREADY.”

“I’LL BE HOME LATE. INTERVIEW. SEE YOU AROUND 10. X”

_ “...typing ...” _

“I LIKE SAYING HOME AND KNOWING IT NOW MEANS YOURS TOO. X”

_ Dork.  _

You blushed a smile. You knew Adam was an emotional person, all that pent-up energy, nervous anxiety, his artistic sensitivity that fed so much of his acting, but you were constantly, and pleasantly, surprised at his occasional bursts of Hallmark-esque romantic sappiness. His tenderness.

_ Massive dork _ , you grinned.

Your moving-in date was that Saturday, technically, but it was all in hand with a removals company who would be organising the move under Hannah’s supervision so you and Adam could escape to the lake house for a couple of days. With everything going on you’d not really had time to process the situation, except that you’d asked Rose to come over on your last night and help with some ceremonial chucking-out of stuff and wine, a sort-of farewell party to your apartment and your junk. You were almost embarrassed knowing a huge van had been ordered but you really didn’t have a lot at all, you were hardly going to move your centuries old, second-hand battered sofa to Adam’s, or the coffee table you were constantly tripping over in your tiny living room…

***

“Ok, that’s all, I think. Thanks for your time, really excited for your show - it sounds like the kind of thing we need a bit more of in New York, opportunities for young playwrights…” the journalist, Ocasia, shook you and Jonathan’s hands.

“Yeah, absolutely. Um, thanks for everything. When will the piece be out?” You asked her as she was packing up her dictaphone. The photographer had wrapped and Hannah was ushering him out the door of the suite. 

“It’s a pretty quick turnaround for online, I think likely this weekend. I’ll let Hannah know when you can expect it.”

She left, leaving you and Jonathan to change and pack up. 

Hannah was glowing, gushing over you immediately as you gathered your things in her big loud, New York voice. 

“It’s going to be a great piece. You guys were excellent. I think there’ll be a lot of buzz around this, it’s definitely putting you on the arts map and I think we can safely say James can go packing.”   
  


You chuckled.

“I REALLY don’t want it to come across as a revenge piece... “

“Oh, it won’t don’t worry. But it’ll do the trick in terms of your credibility over his.”

Jonathan squeezed your hand, you both felt a huge surge of pride at that moment. You’d not mentioned James once, but quite a few of the questions addressed your background, your past. There had of course been a question about Adam. You’d covered enough to paint a picture, without revealing all and certainly putting paid to James’s accusations.

“Look at us! Who’d have thought right? Our first New York profile. I feel like we should be going out for cocktails and dancing now…” Jonathan grinned. 

“Yeah… buuuut… rehearsals, rehearsals, rehearsals!!! Hahahah.” 

You both needed to rush straight over to the theatre for a packed day with your crew, no letting up. You thanked Hannah, promised to talk to her later and headed out. You were in discussion about taking her on full time as a rep… one of the long list of things you were mentally noting to look into as your life took this new turn.

***

That same evening, across town at a corner booth table at Eleven Madison Park, Adam was ordering a steak and salad, fiddling anxiously with a fork as his knee beat a steady rhythm of mild impatience under the table. Opposite him, a young film writer for Esquire Online sat chewing a pen nonchalantly as he sipped from a glass of seltzer. 

Adam was hungry, tired, and not in the mood for questions after eleven hours of rehearsals with no lunch. He was doing his best to be civil, but the poor spotty guy who looked barely out of kindergarten and had taken up the entire table with his backpack, notebook, dictaphone, ipad and headphones was babbling at him non-stop, quite loudly and Adam REALLY didn’t need half the restaurant knowing he was here.

If it had been up to him he’d be at a small table at his favourite local Italian, Fragole in Brooklyn Heights, with a book and a bowl of fettuccine al fredo in front of him, a jug of wine and no one to disturb him so he could read for an hour. Things he rarely got to do any more, in a place where he trusted he would be left alone because no one in his neighbourhood really batted an eyelid, and the owners always made sure there was a quiet corner free if he called in advance. 

If he was doubly lucky, you’d be sat opposite him, in one of your thin cotton sun dresses that drove him crazy, a studious wrinkle in your brow as you worked through the New York Times crossword, swearing every so often under your breath when you messed up an entry, spooning tiramisu into your perfect mouth - the pair of you in blissful, companionable silence. Fragole had a terrace too, so even better, Moose could be nestled between you both, chewing his T-Rex toy to death under the table in the summer sun.

“So, hypothetically, if they made a new Disney + series with Kylo Ren as the central character… I hear rumours on Twitter…”, the spotty kid piped up again and brought Adam crashing back to reality. The kid’s eyebrows were raised expectantly, the eager nervous chewing at the pen leaving a small stain of ink on his bottom lip.

Adam glared at him and stabbed at his steak, before reigning himself in with a biting of his cheeks and a long, silent stare at his plate.  _ Just be polite and get it over the fuck done with asap... _ he thought. If internal groans could shake walls, the restaurant would have crumbled around him.

“I don’t discuss Star Wars…” he ended the conversation swiftly, with a shake of his hand, making it clear that was the end of that line of questioning.

“Oh… kaaay. So… Medea, how’s the preparation going, I hear you work with a coach, can you give us a bit more insight into that process?”

_ Safe territory. _ Adam dished out the soundbites, the same ones he had for the past ten interviews, and chewed his way through the steak, glancing at his watch every few minutes as it edged closer to 10 pm, the end of his allocated interview slot time. 

“With a play coming up and the announcement of a new Noah Baumbach movie starting production soon, it must be hard to find any down time. You’re in a new relationship, is that hard given your schedule? How did you and Amy Myers meet? Her production sounds like your kind of project?”

  
  


Adam tried not to drop his fork in a loud clatter. He’d suspected there’d be a question, for sure, but at five to ten he was hoping somehow this kid wouldn’t bring it up, or have time and he could dash out the door to the car avoiding talking about you altogether. 

‘The Getaway Driver’ had never felt a more accurate description. 

The not-so-subtle insinuation that he was somehow also funding your production, or that you had had to use his name in any way to get your play off the ground also grated on his nerves beyond belief. 

Adam wiped his mouth on a napkin then rested his tense, closed fists on the table, taking his time and posing his cold stare back on the journalist. He took a deep breath to centre himself. 

“Uh, firstly yes, it’s exciting to have two projects going on. I’ve had some down time for a bit so I’m ready to get back in. I like the balance of stage and film - they’re such contrasting mediums and just very different approaches, so it, uh, appeals to the workaholic in me, I guess. I have an excellent team behind me who make sure I get rest and… I know how to make time for myself. Also I got a dog, so I get to walk him and play with him, which is cool. I’m really fucking obsessed with him. So that’s relaxing, I guess. As much relaxing as I am known for…”  _ a sarcastic snort… _

“As for Amy… I want to be really clear, I am not at all involved in her theatre project. She’s an incredibly talented writer and actress and she and her production partner Jonathan are working with Perry Street who approached them directly for the opportunity. I suggest talking to them if you want to know more.”

The kid swallowed and scribbled nervously on his pad, looking anywhere but at Adam who let out a large yawn shamelessly to indicate he was just about ready to close this whole conversation down.

“Ok… there’s been rumours that Amy is… er… can be quite… she’s had some issues?”

The poor journalist looked ready to melt into his chair, as if he’d been told to try and prod for answers, but had already understood this was such a taboo area. Adam didn’t give him the respite of an understanding smile. He leant forward, eyes black and intense, making full use of his broad chest and shoulders to crowd the kid back into his seat.

“Ok, off the record, I didn’t think Esquire stooped to rumour. Or people’s private business. And it is just that. I like to think you guys have a bit more journalistic integrity than US Weekly. Don’t disappoint me.”

He motioned to a passing waiter and indicated the journalist. “He’ll get the check, thanks. We’re done.” and looked pointedly back at the poor boy, now fidgeting with his pen and the tablecloth.

Without bothering with a goodbye handshake, Adam collected his jacket and backpack and got up to leave, leaving the journalist flustered and alone to pick up the bill on the magazine’s account. 

“Oh… uh, well, thanks for a great interview Mr Driver… Um…”

Adam nodded stiffly, his only concession to politeness. He took a couple of strides, then as an afterthought, he turned and simply added.

“Amy is a talent to watch out for. She’s one of the most intelligent and authentic people I know and I’m just incredibly grateful for having met her, she makes me a better person. Write THAT if you have to.”

And with that, he pulled on his jacket and walked out. 

***

When he barreled through the front door of his apartment a half hour later, you were curled on the sofa in one of his denim shirts, rolled up at the sleeves, bare legs stretched out over the coffee table, Moose’s head rested in your lap, watching an old Bergman movie. You’d recently taken to using this shirt as a preferred slouching-around-the-house pyjama option when you’d found it in a box in the office, destined for goodwill. Adam was not complaining. 

You turned as you heard him come through the door, noticing his grumpy face and frustrated huff of air as he unceremoniously dumped his bag and threw down his jacket, running a hand through his hair and kicking off his shoes with a sort of teenage petulance. He looked over at you and his gaze immediately softened at the sight of your head just visible from behind the back of the sofa, hair piled up in a dishevelled bun, a pale freckled shoulder peeking out from the loose shirt where it hung off you, a veritable fort of cushions piled around you and Moose.

You looked good on his sofa. Fucking good. His sofa. Your sofa.  _ Your  _ house. 

Moose leapt down from your lap and waddled over to greet his master, licking at Adam’s palm enthusiastically and wagging his tail and Adam felt the day’s stress slowly leave him as he walked over to kiss you. His body still moved with tension however.

“You look rough?” you asked - it was a lie of course, even exhausted, he looked like a 10-course dessert buffet. 

“Urgh, just… a stupid interview. It wasn’t the guy’s fault, it’s just, the timing was bad. I’m tired, I wasn’t in the mood. He asked some really stupid shit. Yeah, I guess I was pretty grouchy at him.”

You shifted up onto your knees and pulled on the hem of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. He moaned so loudly you burst into a laugh, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, hand curling around your neck, sliding down your throat to tease the skin of your shoulder, pushing as much of the shirt down your shoulders as he could as he pulled you to him, pressing you into the back of the sofa as he leaned in, the wall of his chest solid and hot against the thin denim.

“Oh god, the poor journalist probably just went home to self-flagellate for an hour...” you giggled as Adam started unbuttoning your shirt and your quip dissolved into a sharp breath as he found your naked breast, soft and tender, as the denim slipped off you and he cupped it in his palm, lips warm and insistent against yours, fingers stroking and teasing at the hard bud of your nipple as he pushed you further into the pillows and started to crawl over you.

“Mmm-hmmm…Let’s not talk about him. Fuck him. Let’s talk about you. And how fucking hot you look in my shirt. And…” He pulled away to look down at you, eyes wild and black, roaming from your face, down over your flushed skin to your pale pink cotton panties - “shit, those panties. Fuck!” 

He shifted again to lean fully over you and you reached up to tuck his hair back and pull his face to yours, bruising his lips as you crushed yourself to him, your other arm pulling him flush against you, his cock already hard as a rock against your thigh. 

It was hurried and horny, Adam’s frustrated energy translating into ferocious kisses, his tongue burning over your skin, hands everywhere, fingers pressing into your flesh, leaving bruises. You spread your legs and ground up into him, pulling his t-shirt off him and dragging your nails across his bare back as he moaned into your shoulder. You struggled with his belt, between kisses and his fingers teasing between your legs, curling and stroking at the damp patch of cotton as you arched into him. As soon as the buttons of his jeans were undone you pushed his pants down his legs roughly with your feet, needing him inside you. He grunted, reaching between you to pull his cock from his boxers as your fingers gripped tightly in his hair, tugging at his locks. The jolts of pain and pleasure made him growl, his body against yours moving with barely restrained force, even hornier as he tugged your soaked panties to one side and in one quick move thrust hard and rough inside you, buried to the hilt, your eyes blinking shut from the brief flash of discomfort before you felt yourself melt into him. The muscles of his back tensed and stretched as he thrust inside you, your hands feeling every ripple and sinew of his biceps as he held himself above you, lips devouring yours. 

You clung on to him as he fucked you hard, both of you panting, desperate for closeness, relishing any skin contact possible as you moved awkwardly on the couch, cushions getting in the way, the wool throw beneath you slipping. Adam’s fingers curled in your hair as he kissed every inch of your face, your lips, your throat, pumping deep inside you, your legs curled tight around his waist. One of the couch seats was in danger of sliding off entirely so eventually he wrapped an arm under you and lifted you clean off the couch into a stand. You clung to him as he stood, one leg still with his jeans and boxers bunched around it, his black socks still on, his chest and biceps glistening with sweat, scarred with marks from your nails, his hair mussed and stuck to his cheek. 

He held you there a moment in his arms, your face above him, towering by the coffee table with his cock still buried deep inside you and you pressed a kiss to his lips gently, squeezing your pussy walls around him as he made muffled sounds of arousal, his arms trembling around your waist. 

“Was I… Am I being too rough?” He suddenly panted up at you, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes and biting his lip as you stroked his cheek, eyes all concern.

“No, it’s good.” you beamed down at him. “I’m…I like it...I really like it.” You clenched around him again, your clit rubbing up against his belly in the most delicious way as you felt yourself so full, so aroused by him, his eyes boring into yours, so eager, so dark. His breath hitched as you pulsed around him, his cock twitching inside you, your hair tickling against his chest. 

“Fuck you’re hot. My day got shitty, but fuck, the sight of you in my shirt, all legs and… it’s like getting a huge birthday present after you thought everyone forgot.” he smiled suddenly, a boyish look taking over his face as he flashed you a toothy grin and his dimples creased, his plush lips begging to be bitten and sucked on. 

You giggled, then kissed him, swiping your tongue over his pink bottom lip. 

“Fuck me” you whispered at him. 

He whimpered, pulling you back into a kiss then immediately kneeling down and lowering you onto the thick wool rug of the living room floor, still inside you, manoeuvering your bodies and arranging a fallen cushion under your hips as he slowed his kisses down and started to move again gently inside you. He pushed your knees up towards your shoulders and pressed down deeper into you, lips brushing over yours as he slowed his thrusts to an aching tease, pulling himself out to the tip, then holding himself there, eyes on yours, breaths mingling, feeling you clench around his swollen head almost in frustration, then slowly, slowly driving himself back in, causing you to arch with pleasure, his nose nudging at your cheek, eyelashes fluttering against yours. The growing pleasure was glorious as he filled you, kissing you over and over. 

“I want to be on top…” You whispered into his ear after a while, wanting to take control. Without hesitation he flipped you over, feeling the weight of your perfect ass sit firmly down on his thick thighs, eyes roving over the glistening curves of your belly, the dusky swell of your breasts, the dark, wet curls of your cunt on his cock, hair loose and damp with sweat, falling like waves over your pale skin.

You parted your knees and slid a hand down between your legs, gently spreading the lips of your sex for him so he could watch you as you slowly started toying with your clit, rubbing the little bud with small circular strokes, his eyes widening, cock thrusting up into you as he watched, biting his lip. 

“Fuck, Amy. I love watching you. Can you… will you make yourself come for me?”

“Don’t move. Just feel me.” You ordered him. He bit down on his lip and let out a strangled moan of pleasure. 

As you stroked yourself, you rocked gently against him, feeling him so big and thick inside you, the head of his cock pressing up against your sweet spot, your slow spasms around his shaft making him squirm, knowing he wanted so desperately to thrust up into you, but instead was willing himself with all his might to obey. 

You pulled your fingers away and pressed one to his mouth, slick and shining, relishing the feel of those plush, wine-red lips as they closed around your moistened finger and sucked gently, his eyes flicking shut at the taste of you before you resumed your play, his resolve slowly crumbling as he watched you bring yourself off above him.

His hands clutched at your hips so tight you felt your skin burn, his chest heaving and breaths becoming more and more rapid as your strokes got faster and more urgent. You tilted your head back and arched, steadying your other hand behind you against his thigh, nails digging into his flesh. Adam reached up to clutch at your breast as he felt you get close to orgasm, letting out a grunt of tortured pleasure as he felt you start to clench around him, your rocking getting faster and harder. He was going to explode if you didn’t come soon, the sight of you completely undone above him, framed in a halo of red golden hair, skin flushed and damp, thighs trembling against his was almost too much to bear. 

“Amy, I’m close… I, let me fuck you…  _ please! _ ”

“Don’t. MOVE.” You panted out, feeling a tight coil of pleasure curl up through your belly as you ground down against his cock, fingers wet and slippery as they rubbed faster over your swollen clit. 

You cried as you came, tilting forward as your orgasm hit, like liquid honey coursing through your veins and a rush of heat blazing through your centre. You came hard and pulsed around Adam’s cock as your thighs gripped him, hands coming down to his chest, one curling around his throat as you rode your climax out. As soon as his lips met yours he came undone, fucking into you hard with a loud, gutteral moan, his head lifting up to meet yours, body curling up to pull you into a seated embrace on his lap, to get as deep as possible inside you, feeling every flutter, every spasm as he spilled inside you, teeth leaving marks on your shoulder as he bit down on your skin through his orgasm.

  
  


You stayed curled together for several minutes, shuddering through the come down amidst the scattered cushions, discarded clothes and the rumpled wool throw, bodies sated and humming in the late evening quiet. Adam’s arms were wrapped around you like a protective shield, your head nestled in the crook of his neck. 

After a few minutes you chuckled against his skin, “So… anyway, my day was great. Thanks for asking.” 

He felt your grin as he laughed softly into your hair.

“Oh! Good, yeah, I mean I was going to ask but then I got all distracted by something...”

“Gosh, I hadn’t noticed.” you mocked.

He pressed kisses to your neck, nibbled at your ear and shifted under you, the sticky damp between you becoming uncomfortable. He wrapped the wool throw around you both and wiped delicately between your legs, an attempt to clean things up a bit, it could go in the wash later.

He mumbled as he peppered your cheek with kisses. 

“Was the interview good? When’s it out?”

“This weekend I think. It went really well. I… I talked about us, as we agreed. But mostly it’s on the project, the show.”

“Good.” A kiss to your shoulder, over the bruises from his teeth. “The Esquire guy actually mentioned the fucking US Weekly thing. That’s why I blew off at him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Did you give him ‘The Glare’?” you asked, in a smirking tone.

“The what?” Adam’s eyebrows shot up.

“You know...  _ ‘The Glare’ _ .”

“Uh, I think he thought I was going to stab him with my fork… which maybe I was.” he grumbled. “Wait... ‘The Glare’ - is that a thing?” he chuckled. 

“Oh Adam, your “I’m disappointed” Dad look is so studied and perfected I think you could patent it. It’s a bit like the serious face you do in photoshoots.” You tried to stifle your laughter, then pulled back and looked at him. He looked sheepish, the faint trace of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You mimicked his furrowed brow and cheek-biting intense stare. Blue steel.

“Oh, so that’s ‘The Glare’, huh?” he grinned. 

“You’re scared now, right?”

“Terrified. No wonder they keep calling me intense. So you’re saying I basically go around looking… constipated all the time?”

You let out a surprised hitched giggle.

“Your words… not mine...” you grinned, a broad smile now.

You both burst into loud snorting laughs and fell back against the cushions, Adam shaking from head to toe as he covered his face with a square pillow before swiping at you with it. By the time you’d finished pillow fighting the living room was a total disaster zone and a very confused Moose stood in the hallway by the book case looking bemused at the pair of you, his T-rex hanging out of his mouth and eyes raised in a questioning stare.

***

Later that night, you lay in bed, body unable to drift off to sleep. The following evening you were headed back to your apartment one last time for a final round of packing with Rose before the removal men were due and you and Adam would head to the lakehouse and leave them to handle the logistics. 

Your head rested on Adam’s chest, feeling it rise and fall in a slow, steady rhythm under your cheek, soft and warm, your eyes watching the muscles of his abdomen moving with each breath, fingers trailing lightly through the smattering of soft black hairs of his happy trail where it disappeared under the sheets. He smelled of his sandalwood soap, and musk and heat. Lying on his back, one arm was curled loosely around your shoulder, holding you close, fingers splayed through your hair, his head turned towards you, nose buried in your loose red locks spread over the pillow. His other arm was tucked behind him. His eyes were shut but he was awake, taking in the lemony scent of your hair, the warm huffs of your breath against his ribcage. He sensed your body alert, despite the late hour.

“Are you nervous? About moving in with me?” he asked, hesitantly, in a quiet, low voice, his lips kissing your hair.

You pressed a kiss against his pectoral, sliding your hand up to curl around him in a comforting hug.

“No. Not at all. Excited, more. The anticipation. The unknowns. I’m just imagining little scenarios. Random things. Wondering what sort of silly things we’re going to argue over. All our little habits we don’t know of each other yet. How the basement might look when we start designing it. Wondering where I’m going to hang that print of the lilies I have… just all these little thoughts.”

“I get that. I’m a bit nervous… actually.”

“Really? Second thoughts?” you asked, suddenly shy.

“Oh, God no, not at all, that’s not what I meant at all, on the contrary. It’s more… well, yeah I guess I’m like you, it’s all the little unknowns. We’re going to learn each other. It’s fun, it’s exciting, but also a little terrifying. Nothing really worth doing should ever  _ not _ be a bit scary. I do have annoying habits though. Maybe I’m just anxious I’ll be too much. Or… I don’t know. Rehearsals are getting more intense. I might go to some dark places, I guess. In the prep. Oh shoot, I’m rambling… I’m not nervous, just…” he took a deep breath. “I just hope you love us living together as much as I know I’m going to love it. I can’t wait to figure out all those things you just mentioned, together.”

You lifted your head slightly, kissing his chin, before he moved his head down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. 

“I can’t wait either!” you smiled. “And you know what? It won’t be perfect, just like nothing is. We’ll argue, we’ll bicker. But as long as we keep talking to each other, that we have each other’s backs...We’ll get through anything. That and… lots of make up sex.” you grinned.

“I want to share everything with you...  _ Especially _ the make-up sex. As long as you feel the same.” He whispered.

“Always.” you answered, smiling in the dark. “I am warning you now though, I will never have your military precision clothes-folding thing... I’m more of a ‘drape them around’ kinda girl. The clothes eventually find their rightful place, it’s just that… they take a scenic route… Whereas you’re a bit…”

“...Anal?” he quirked.

“...well, I was going to say…  _ super _ tidy… but, hey, potato, po-tah-to”.

He smiled, a finger under your chin to tilt your head more closely, kissing you again, more deeply.

“I love you so much, you know that? You can drape your shit anywhere you want.”

“I love you too. You massive dork.”

He pulled you closer then and pulled the bed sheet further up, rolling you into a tight hug. You felt the steady rhythm of his heart against your back, his legs tucked behind yours, mouth pressed against you. His breath was a lullaby as his arm stroked along your skin soothingly as finally, finally, he lulled you to sleep. 

***

Your apartment looked big for the first time in its existence.

With everything packed away in boxes, piled by the door and the living room now free of the couch, the coffee table, the pouffe and your bedroom alcove devoid of a bed (the first run of removals had taken everything to the recycle dump earlier that day) you could almost call the studio a proper one bed space.

Rose sat on one box, tugging the cork from a bottle of sparkling wine to pour into two paper cups as you sat on the floor opposite, poking at a box of shrimp noodles from the take out place opposite. Adam’s orange tree was beside you, you were taking it back to his later that night in his car, rather than risking it getting squashed in the van. 

A police siren went off outside and you heard the shutters of the thrift store just down the street closing and rattling, your neighbour barking on his cell phone from his open window as he threw a rug out and proceeded to beat it with a mop against the fire escape. The tinny sounds of Cuban salsa droned out of the mini-mart on the street corner. Sounds you’d known for three years. Those New York sounds you loved to hate. 

Sounds you would not hear again at 154 Hicks Street, Brooklyn Heights where the only noise from the well-tended back garden were the genteel rustles of prunus and laurel trees, the distant rumble of low-grade traffic, the neighbour’s kids occasionally or whichever old movie they were watching from their bed that night. 

You finished your noodles as Rose handed you a cup of fizzy wine and she grinned at you.

“So, this is it. A toast. To your next steps.  _ Domestication.  _ I’m only slightly jealous…” she laughed.

“You realise this means now I can invite more than one person around at a time for dinner and the third person doesn’t have to perch on the kitchen counter or sit on my bed in order to fit. I can cook you a meal in a proper kitchen, not fight for hob space if I want to cook more than one dish.”

“I expect many invitations.”

“Oh don’t worry, I expect you to come round as often as you like.  _ Mi casa es tu casa _ . I’m gonna bully Adam into a house warming.”

“He’s not up for it?”

“Oh, he’d totally be up for it, -ish, though he’d never admit it. You saw him up at Silver Lake, he can be super sociable. He’s just awful at organising anything, he needs gentle prodding and persuasion...His mind is pretty wired and right now it’s like ‘focus, focus, focus’. Anything beyond Medea and rehearsals right now he needs his PA to even remind him the day of the week.”

“Ha! Well, I can’t wait to see you properly settled. Like, I can’t believe it. It’s so crazy, but it is so right for you. You guys together are ridiculously cute. I’d puke, except I’m just hanging on for all the invites to fancy gatherings you’re going to extend to me, where I plan on mingling my single ass around.”

You giggled, stomach only slightly dropping at the prospect of the coming year. The inevitable Oscars invite. The massive unknowns hanging over the success, or not, of your show. The red-eyes back and forth between L.A and New York you knew were on the cards as the production schedule for Marriage Story had come through, with shooting starting barely a week after the end of Medea.

“You know…” you dismissed the excited nerves and took a sip of the warm fizz. “Speaking of invites and mingling...Adam has a lot of hot, single, Marine friends…”

“Wait… what?”

“Well… I mean, I’ve not met them yet...but I think there’s a reunion at some point, he usually gets together with his friends at least once a year, for a catch up, when they all can. He’ll probably try and see them before opening night… But he has pictures... in his office. His old platoon. I can make, uh, some discreet enquiries…” you winked at Rose and wiggled your eyes suggestively.

She snorted into her wine.

“Oh Amy. I  _ fully _ support this union. Have I mentioned that?”

“Oh… maybe just a few dozen times... Let’s go and sit on the fire escape. I need to raise a glass to my neighbourhood one last time.”

Your phone rang in your pocket once you were settled outside. A private number. Rose poured herself another glass as you mouthed a silent “I’ll just take this” as you both took in the early evening sun over the brownstone buildings of 6th street.

“Hello, this is Amy Myers?”

“Amy. Finally.”

You tensed immediately. That voice. You’d know it anywhere. But…  _ how _ ?

“James.” You breathed, voice barely able to utter his name. Your stomach churned but you sat up straight. Wondering really if this call had been inevitable. At some point. Something you had to put to bed, properly. Eventually.

Rose’s head whipped round to face you and she gave you a shocked look, arm reaching out to grab yours, asking silently if you were ok. 

“It is I… Surprise!” He drawled, his patronising, cloying tone dripping with amusement down the line. Wanting to know how much he’d affect you, loving that power.

“How did you get this number?” you asked, stiffly.

“Well… there are  _ some  _ people at Juilliard who still talk to me. No thanks to you.”

You breathed deeply, audibly down the phone. You were determined not to let James get to you. Weirdly, the shock of his voice having now passed, you realised that instead of hearing him making your nervous, or nauseous, you were feeling a sense of cool calmness take over. 

You discreetly hit the loudspeaker button so Rose could listen too, nodding at her that you were ok even as she topped up your wine glass to the brim.

“What…” you cleared your throat. Needing to sound stronger. In fact, suddenly feeling stronger. “What do you want?”

“Can’t an old friend just call for a chat? I mean… I know you’re so busy now… with your new  _ boyfriend _ . Your  _ ‘ _ ca _ -reer’ _ ” He almost spat the last word out.

Rose was already muttering expletives under her breath, but - in a move that surprised even yourself - you tapped her and mouthed silently at her. “Rose, it’s ok. Honestly.”

“Old friend? You’re joking right? James. I don’t know what you think you’re going to achieve with bullying phone calls and lame spill-the-beans articles, but… yes, I actually am busy right now. Too busy for your shit.”

“Amy… we both know you owe me some apologies…”

“OWE YOU AN APOLOGY?!?!” You looked startled for a moment, knowing James wanted you to rise to the bait, goading you. Instead you took a deep breath. Looked down at the phone then promptly burst out laughing. 

It was freeing. A freeing, loud, irrepressed belly laugh. 

“Oh my God James, you poor thing. Really. I mean… god when I knew it was you calling, I thought it would hurt. I’ve been so worried about this day actually happening I didn’t realise how much I’m actually just so  _ over  _ all of your shit, how much I’ve stopped caring since we last saw each other.”   
  


He clearly didn’t know what to say as you continued to laugh down the phone.

“Amy, I can make things difficult for you. You didn’t treat me right, leaving like that. I know you told people things…” He was trying to sound strong, but he just sounded like a snide, wounded little rat, voice whiny and desperate.

“James. You can throw whatever at me. I doubt I’d have the time, or inclination to notice. The only thing your stupid stunt in US Weekly achieved was to secure Jonathan and I a profile piece in a great magazine. You know, for that Broadway show we both got funding for. Because we worked super fucking hard, and deserve it. From what I hear,  _ you _ just got a disciplinary from your community theatre… in… where are you now? Ohio? Because of your bullying behaviour. Surprise, surprise… Oh, and Ohio? What, no friends left in the Big Apple? How’s that working out for you?”

“...” Stunned silence. A grunt. 

“That’s not… it’s temporary.... A misunderstanding… Amy… You think just ‘cos you have a fucking celebrity boyfriend you can…”

“Oh god, give it a rest James. You think Adam, or my private life has anything to do with anything?! He does his thing, and guess what, I have mine. My success is my own. Despite you, despite your bullying, your fucking manipulative shit, your disgraceful and disgusting behaviour. I got where I am despite you, and in defiance of you. My job. The show. Putting myself back through school. Working through my grief over my Dad.  _ I  _ achieved that, all by myself. Throw more mud if you want, it’s all crap and you know it. The more you throw, the more pathetic you reveal yourself to be. Just… go home James. Go and work on your shitty little life.”

You could hear James’s confusion at no longer being able to control you, his words no longer having any effect. You heard him stammer and stutter over them down the line. This clearly wasn’t going the way he had planned. Whatever way that was. 

Rose was fist-pumping the air as you stood up, feeling totally emboldened, like the years of therapy were finally paying off, a yoke being thrown off your shoulders. You wondered how you’d ever looked at James twice….

“Amy, I… uh… well look, I just. You can’t just talk to me like that. We have… history.”

“ No James. You’re mistaken. I can talk to you however I want. But, I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t need to talk to you. And we don’t have history. YOU are history. So… I’m going to hang up now. And, I don’t think you’re going to call again. Are you, James? Because you know what? Your shit doesn’t work on me any more. You’ve got nothing. And… I have a PR rep now. So if you do still feel some burning need to get your fifteen minutes of fame talking bullshit to a gossip rag, I’ll be looking into a slander case. I still have all those emails you sent me. The threats, the nastiness.”

“Amy, I… no, there’s no need… um…”

“What’s that James? I can’t hear you. Oh… wait… oh, it’s the sound of you disappearing back up that ass hole of yours as I hang up. Ok, well… have a great life.”

“AMY?!...”

“Byyyeeeee….”

You hung up. Holding the phone in front of you in a shaking hand and just staring at it. Breathless. Body surging with energy, confidence. Rose was simply staring at you in awe, her hand practically crushing the paper cup she was holding.

You let out a long rush of air, then looked down at Rose. And promptly started laughing. 

“OH MY GOD, what a rush!!!”

“Amy, you… wow. That… kicked ASS! You rocked that piece of shit!!”

“I did, right? God, I feel… fucking liberated!”

Rose got up and pulled you into a fierce hug as a small tear of relief and joy made its way down your cheek.

“Thank god I brought an extra bottle. This definitely deserves extending the toast. What time do you need to get back to Adam’s?”

“No rush. I’ll go when I’m ready. I want to savour this moment. With my best friend. Come on, let’s crack it open. I can call the car a bit later. Let’s… let’s say goodbye to this apartment, to… James. Once and for all.”

You stared out at the New York night, the stars, the haze of street lamps, the glow of city light hanging above the skyline. And now you really couldn’t wait for this next stage of your life to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS! Again, sorry my updates are slower between each one, but I promised I would finish this and I fully intend to! I am still debating what form the next chapters take, and depending if I get everything I want out of this I may or may not extend the number of chapters.
> 
> YOUR COMMENTS ARE THE JOY AND RAINBOWS I THRIVE ON, I LOVE THEM ALL! Please do keep kudos-ing, commenting and sharing your lovely feedback. You are all wonderful people, thank you!


	19. I scream for ice-cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Amy and Adam discover a mutual love for frozen ice treats  
> ***  
> And she is official "moved in"...  
> ***  
> And in which Amy takes the lead  
> ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, so a wee update on what's what. I lost my job last week after a long period of uncertainty etc. Needless to say I sort of saw it coming, but it doesn't make it easier. This is why posting slowed down and I will stop promising precise dates, however I am continuing this story as I have the time. I was trying to keep a strict schedule but by promising dates I am letting people down if I am a day or two late, and honestly life is really stressful right now to also be worrying about keeping up with meeting fanfiction expectations when this is meant to be fun for me. I LOVE all your comments and your kudos make me the happiest person, I am writing this for you as much as for me. I promise this will continue to be updated regularly I just don't want to feel guilty for being a day late here and there. To be able to update more often I will shorten my chapters. Now that Adam and Amy are established, I want to focus more on just posting short scenes and updates as their relationship progresses, so shorter chapters posted more often. If there is a scenario you want me to write, please let me know! FOR NOW ENJOY!!!!!!!!! Oh and also, there will be more than 20 chapters... :)

“How about now? It looks ok from where I’m standing…” Adam looked down at you from the middle step of the stepladder, eyebrow quirked, looking for confirmation.

“Hmm… just a  _ very _ little bit to the left...”

“Here?”

“Yes, stop. Right there. Perfect!” 

“Cool. Pass me the drill?”

“Coming right up!”

That was the last of your artworks up. Your lilies painting. The first piece of art you’d ever purchased, made by a local artist and found at Brooklyn Flea when you’d moved into your rental and had a bit of money from your Dad’s inheritance to spend - he’d been gone barely a couple of months at the time. 

The painting was bold and colourful, a splash of wild colour against a dark ink blue background, bright and full of life like your father, who’d been a force of nature. But lilies being the flower of love and grief they had also called to you at that time, propped against the wall of the open market store, appropriate for your mood, your pain. You’d wanted something to commemorate him. It was the one piece of art you owned, amongst some small sketches, theatre prints and monoprints that you really valued. 

It looked perfect hung between two separated sections of the sunken bookcase against the exposed brick of the living room wall. Adam jumped down from the small step ladder, clad in a ragged old t-shirt and jogging shorts, hair messy and specked with dust from the drilling, an afternoon of hanging paintings and rearranging books and furniture completed after three evenings of unpacking boxes after rehearsals.

You’d been living together for just over a week. You were shattered, but blissed out, everything new and enticing. Today - a Saturday, was the first day you’d been able to actually finish unpacking and feel moved in.

Your new desk in the study already looked like you’d been using it for years, stuffed full of your papers and notebooks, two new shelves for your books up on the wall. Adam had moved a load of his old boxes that had been festering in the office for years down into the basement floor which was lying empty awaiting its transformation. In their place was your orange tree, a small hand carved stool you’d bought from Morocco ages ago, and - hanging in a black wood and glass mounted frame given to you by Hannah as a moving-in gift, a blown up print of your profile piece from Brooklyn Magazine, you and Jonathan looking dapper and cool staring off the page. Your first ever feature.

You and Adam had taken full advantage of your two days away at the lakehouse to recharge and refresh before you moved in. The pair of you had done very little beyond swimming, reading, barbecues, walks in the forest with Moose and making love in every single room of the house, and in the water, and in the shower and -  _ in hindsight not the brightest of ideas _ \- out on the deck. That had resulted rather awkwardly in you getting a splinter in your ass halfway through, which you’d both started laughing about, Adam trying to stand to help you up whilst giggling with his head thrown back, then promptly stubbing his toe against one of the lounge chairs as he got up. 

_ Revenge is sweet,  _ you’d mocked him.

The break was a good thing, but you’d barely seen each other since, both coming home late, exhausted, grabbing food on the run or reheating pre-cooked stuff before crashing in bed. You barely had time to grab ten minutes of hellos and goodnights here and there between rushing to and from rehearsals, tired kisses and needy hugs in the dark, rushed morning sex in the shower, both your phones ringing off the hook at all hours of the day. Your boxes had lain in the basement for a week before you even properly unpacked.

You’d also asked to defer your teaching degree until further notice. There was no way studying was even happening at this point.

***

Adam stepped back to admire the painting and put his hands on his hips, drill in hand, knees stained and forearms smeared in dust and sweat. It was still in the mid-80s outside and he’d done the bulk of moving sofas around, boxes, drilling, hammering whilst you unpacked and made lunch. 

“It looks great there! I love it. Who’s the artist again? Do you remember?” he cocked his head at you, pushing a loose, sweaty lock of hair from his eyes, rolling a kink out of his shoulders.

“Oh god, I wish I could. Riley somebody?” 

Adam reached his hand out, searching for you.

“Hey, come here.”

You stepped over to him and let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you both stood, dishevelled, and admired the painting together. Then Adam looked around the space at all your new little touches. 

“ _ Now _ it feels like our place.” he said, softly, smiling at you. “It looks better.”

“You’re a real softie, you know that?” You smiled back, reaching up to kiss him. 

Moose waddled over to squat at Adam’s feet, also intrigued at what you were both looking at and staring up at the pair of you, his tail wagging lazily against the oak floor as Adam ruffled his head. 

Your books lined the shelves, your throw was over the back of the sofa. Your monoprints collection had been hung along one wall of the alcove reading room. You’d both ordered (well, Hannah had) a ton of new plants and a set of blown glass hangers for the kitchen space, wanting to buy something small together as a moving in gesture. 

“It  _ does _ feel good.” You grinned. “I’m so happy right now, although I could probably still sleep 20 hours straight.” You squeezed Adam’s side, then turned your face up to meet his as he kissed you sweetly, more deeply, smiling into the kiss. 

“I’ve got one more box of stuff to unpack for the bedroom and then I’m going to crash outside for a bit. Join me?” You asked.

“Sure. I’ll just go and clean up quickly. Oh, and I think there’s a re-stock of that Honey Crunch ice cream you like from Oddfellows in the freezer.”

“Oh my god, are you serious? That’s like music to my ears… you remembered?”

“Technically, Hannah remembered. I just told her to make sure there was enough ice cream in the freezer to feed a small country.” He smiled, packing away the tool box. You’d already dashed to the freezer to find it.

“Well this small country is grateful for your generous contribution to the wellbeing of its population. That last box can wait.”

You grabbed a spoon, slid your shades on, picked up your book from the kitchen counter and gave Adam a quick peck on the cheek before strolling out to lounge in the sun with Moose.

***

By the time Adam joined you outside, half the tub of ice cream was gone, you were stretched out on the lounge sofa, feet propped over the armrest on one end, book, untouched, resting on your belly, halfway in a slumber as you allowed yourself to finally relax after your crazy week.

You heard Adam come down the steps, cross the decking and move around you, heard him pick up the tub of now half-molten ice cream sludge and the clunk of a spoon, but kept your eyes closed, too comfortable in your sleepy state to move. 

Suddenly a shadow cast over your eyelids. You felt the solid, cotton-smelling warmth of a large body crouched down by yours, then a cold drip of something sweet dribbled onto your lips. The shock of the cold ice-cream against your mouth caused you to gasp, but the sensation was swiftly replaced by a hot, wet heat as Adam leaned down to lick the molten cream from your bottom lip, then slowly slipped his warm, honeyed tongue into your mouth for a languid kiss, his cool lips sweet and soft as they moved against yours. 

You arched up slightly as Adam suckled on your top lip, nibbling at your cupid’s bow, letting out quiet little moans as he tasted the sticky honey cream on your mouth. You pulled back and opened your eyes and found him smiling down at you, eyes mischievous, hungry. His hair was damp from showering, skin clean and cool. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. You felt a familiar tug between your legs as your eyes trailed across his chest, pale, smooth and so, so wide.

“It’s good ice cream” he grinned, resting the tub against your tummy as he dipped the spoon in back in and lifted a sloppy, molten mess up to his mouth before wrapping his plush, red lips around it, keeping his eyes on you as he licked the spoon clean, the bare skin of his muscled stomach pressed against your side as he kneeled beside the sofa. You shivered a little under his gaze, this wall of a man, taunting you with that mouth, those eyes, that quiet intensity. 

“Have you left me any?” You quipped, arching an eyebrow. 

“Enough.”

“Define enough. I’m a hungry girl...” you asked.

“Enough to do this…” he answered back, before dropping the spoon into the tub and, with his now free hand, sliding one of the thin straps of your vest top and bralet down your shoulder, nudging you to slip your arm out of them, before sliding the vest down further and exposing the soft, pale mound of your breast, your dusky pink nipple pebbling under his gaze.

“Adam, what are you…?” 

You felt a dampness seeping between your thighs...

“Shhh…” He pressed a finger to your mouth, then leaned down and closed his lips, now cold from the ice cream, around your stiff peaked nipple, teasing it with little kisses, tracing the tip of his cool tongue slowly around it, the areola swelling and the bundle of nerves between your legs tightening with unexpected pleasure.

“Adam… Oh!” you arched again into his mouth before he pulled away, licking his lips before lifting another spoonful of honeycomb ice cream from the tub and letting it drip over the soft skin of your breast, little rivers of it dribbling down over your nipple, a sight that had him getting hard in seconds. 

He dipped his head and lapped the cream off your skin enthusiastically, grazing your tight little bud with his teeth, licking and sucking at the soft underswell of your breast as you fisted your fingers through his hair and mumbled nonsense, keening to his touch. The alternating hot wet of his tongue, ice cold cream and the cool softness of his mouth was intoxicating as it played across your sensitive flesh.

The garden was private enough, with high fences and trees, but you didn’t need the neighbours hearing you so you bit down on your lip as Adam’s mouth worked you up between spoonfuls of ice-cream, lips hot, then cold, drips of sticky cream spattering across your chest, then down your ribs as he slid your vest further down, his fingers smearing the honeyed cream across your lips before pulling you up to him into a deep, possessive kiss. 

“You taste so good, Amy…I’m…  _ really _ hard right now...” his words got lost in your mouth as he kissed you, your warm hand sliding down across the taut naked skin of his abdomen and slipping into his shorts, finding him true to his word, hard, aching and ready, a slick of precum messing your hand as you wrapped your fingers round him and he pressed into your palm, panting. He groaned louder, thrusting suddenly into your hand with force.

“Let’s… uh, I want you...inside… now...um… neighbours…” 

He tried to get the sentence out, but didn’t need to. You scrambled onto your feet, covering yourself briefly as you both jumped from the sofa to scurry indoors, Adam with the giant ice cream tub and spoon in one hand as he pulled you inside with the other, moving awkwardly as his erection jutted proudly against the tight jersey material of his shorts..

You made it as far as the rug by the sofa in the living room - via a brief and messy interlude pushed up against the wall by the gym room where the tub of ice cream nearly upended as Adam pinned you, fingers between your legs, his free hand clasping yours above your head with the tub precariously gripped in the same fist, mouth burning a trail along your neck as he toyed with your clit, your thighs soaked and sticky. 

You stumbled down onto the soft rug, a jumble of limbs and kisses. Adam kneeled beside you, dumping the ice cream on the coffee table as you hurriedly tugged off your jogging pants. His large hands slid over your skin, his hair in disarray, head dipping to kiss your shoulders, your hip bones, to bite the tops of your thighs, lick and nip at the inside of your wrists, one fist squeezing his cock to stave off his building need, so eager, as you wriggled your panties down. 

“Close your eyes” he whispered gruffly once you were stretched naked beneath him. He straddled across your legs, leaning over you, fingers teasing up and down the skin of your abdomen, stroking your breasts then slipping a long sticky finger into your mouth, then a second, groaning as you sucked on them eagerly, his erection thick, heavy and hot against your belly, twitching. 

You obeyed him, eyes fluttering shut, the low rumble of his voice and breath against your skin making you even wetter. You stretched your arms above your head, fingers gripping at the fibers of the rug, biting your lip, then you heard him sigh - a desperate, wanting sigh, heated with need. Slowly, he shimmied down towards your ankles, then nestled between your legs, his broad back arching over you as he inched your knees apart with light strokes of his hand. 

He teased a finger down along your slit, then back up - just avoiding your most sensitive spot. He petted the damp curls at the apex of your thighs, glistening with the evidence of your arousal, then slowly stroked the soft pink lips of your sex, all messy and soaked, slicking his finger up, delicately circling your clit with soft little strokes, taunting you, making you buck up into his hand.

He was quiet as he continued to tease, then out of nowhere you felt the surprise of ice-cold drips across your lower belly, a cool sliver of liquid dripping down between your legs. You let out a soft cry at the shock of cold against the heat of your cunt as Adam drizzled melted ice cream from your belly button down over the lips of your pussy, dripping it over your clit and watching it trickle down along your slit, dribbling all over your inner thighs. 

The sensation of frozen cold against the aroused warmth of your sex had you arching, your clit was throbbing. You could feel Adam’s lips millimetres from your skin, the curls of his hair tickling your inner thigh, the warmth of his breath playing across your swollen clit as you clenched around nothing, aching for him, needing his tongue, his fingers, his cock. He watched your clit pulse, the little jolts of your knees, felt you wriggle under him where his hands held your thighs in place. 

He was so hard it almost hurt but he wanted to drag this out, bring you to the highest edge of pleasure before letting you fall. He blew softly, cool air whispering over your clit and again you clenched, a dribble of arousal puddling on the rug beneath you, mingling with the ice cream, your thighs now a sloppy mess, sticky, sweet, tangy. 

The teasing was almost,  _ almost _ unbearable. You let out a whimper and clutched at Adam’s arm, begging him for release. Then softly, barely grazing you, the hot, wet tip of Adam’s tongue reached out and licked up across your clit, lapping the cream ever-so-gently from your cunt, his plush wet lips closing around your pussy to suckle on you, tongue dipping inside you, drinking down your sweet arousal as his throat made raspy, desperate noises. Your mind went blank and you nearly whited out from the pleasure as he licked hungrily at you, your hands gripping at the rug, toes curling. 

He licked you relentlessly, loud and hungry, coaxing more juices from your pussy as you clutched at his hair, nails digging into his scalp, the ice-cream by now forgotten, the tub leaking its meager remnants over the coffee table. Adam, enjoying the taste of you far too much to stop and too close to his own orgasm to wait much longer, was bringing himself off with his free hand, fist stroking at his aching cock hard and fast as you writhed beneath him. You wanted him, wanted to taste him too, wanted to see his face when he came - knowing the taste of you was turning him on so much he couldn’t help but touch himself. 

You tugged at his hair, cupping his face to pull him up, sliding an arm down his waist to slip between his muscled thighs, cupping his balls as he stroked himself - you tapped against his leg gently, letting him know you wanted him. 

“Adam, come up here, let me taste you…”

He groaned and bit his bottom lip hard, curving over as he held himself above you, knowing he was close. He inched forward, straddling your chest now, his large palm reaching down to cup the back of your head and lift it gently, bringing your lips to the swollen head of his cock as he pumped. 

“Amy… fuck… I’m not gonna last long…” he stuttered. 

You closed your sweet pink lips around the tip of him, sucking him like a juicy fruit, feeling his fist move faster up and down his shaft as it bumped at your chin, his thighs trembling and knees clamping against your waist as he grunted, * _ FUCK!*  _ he was going to explode...

You looked up at him as your tongue lapped at the thick swollen ridge under his head, traced the thick vein along his shaft before going back to suck the tip of his cock, edging him, lips pressing soft wet kisses to him as you watched him slowly come undone, licking at the thick beads of pre-cum along his fingers. He slowed as he neared his release, leaning back slightly, thighs stiffening. He gripped your head hard as you leaned back with a smile, opening your pretty mouth as you watched him fall apart. 

Adam let out a hoarse cry as thick hot ropes of cum spilled across your lips, your cheeks, your chin. It spattered down his fist, making a mess across your collarbone. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked him clean before his knees gave way and he slumped, rolling onto his side and clutching at his ribs as he let out a deep chuckle, a laugh of relief at the intensity. You watched him as his chest heaved, skin slick with sweat, stomach shiny with damp, his face flushed and breath ragged and hot. He turned his face to yours, a smile almost disbelieving as his hand searched for yours between your bodies and grabbed it, clutching hard as if afraid you might run off. He kissed your wrist delicately, lips dewy and warm, still breathing intensely.

“I love you so fucking much.” he let out softly before you curled yourself over him, pressing into a tender hug.

“And I love ice-cream more now than I ever knew.” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to the curve of his ear as he laughed again. 

***

That evening you had been invited to the preview night of a new off-Broadway show one of Adam’s old Juilliard friends was in. It wasn’t a big press affair, it was smart casual dress and you could tell Adam was happy not to have to go through the rigmarole of a stylist and home invasion of make-up people and fuss and talking to the media.

He emerged from the bathroom in a slightly crumpled pale denim shirt, black jeans and his Red Wing boots, hair brushed back and wavy, a bit of stubble on his chin. You had made considerable more effort, a black fitted lace dress and heels, jacket by a local up and coming New York fashion designer that you’d “borrowed” from one of Hannah’s contacts, aware that however casual this was still a “public appearance” that worked towards your profile, at the same time as being hyper aware and nervous at the sudden importance of this moment. 

You had met with Hannah secretly during the week to discuss getting an agent for yourself, keen to throw yourself fully back into the acting game, spurred on by your sudden visibility, (not so much covert as wanting to know it was a possibility before saying anything). She couldn’t wait to help you and had recommended a list of affordable and well-connected people. It was vital that you built your own space, your own career, not connected to Adam, you had no intention of using him for your success and wanted to forge your own path. She had come up trumps and her best piece of advice was “be yourself, make your own image”. So tonight was about you being you, dressing to impress, not being the ‘girlfriend’ but the theatre producer. 

Then you felt embarrassed. You knew by going with Adam the attention would be all about him. You also realised that you needed to find the balance because he was your support and your partner. You wanted to address with him this whole bigger picture of your relationship. Instead you stared in the mirror, brow furrowed, lost in your own world, biting a nail as Adam brushed his teeth and checked his phone. Your brain was a fuzz.

“You look really hot.” Adam mumbled, toothbrush still in his mouth as he glanced over at you, eyes widening. “I feel scruffy now. I just get lazy about these things if I’m left to my own devices...”

You smiled at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. 

“Adam, can I… um… can we talk?”

He removed his toothbrush and looked up again, concerned. Without a word he ambled back to the bathroom still looking at you, spat out his toothpaste and gargled water from a cup. 

“Are you ok? You look nervous?” All concern, immediately.

“Urgh, where to start… um… So I know tonight is super casual and not a thing… and you do this all the time. But… Um… I’m hiring an agent.”

“You’re what? That’s great! Are you seriously going back to theatre for good? I mean… I want this for you, so much...I’m there. I…  _ wait _ , what was the question, again? You look really concerned? What’s that got to do with tonight?” He bounded over, like a giant kid, all limbs and studious face. 

“Ok, I’m all over the place, I’m not making sense. So. I met with Hannah this week. I talked with school, to defer for a period. I… um...I think this show with Perry Street will be a good platform for me to try getting back into theatre properly. I have an opportunity I didn’t have before. My Dad left me some money when he passed and I never knew what to do with it, I was just sitting on it waiting for… I don’t know what. And now, with the show, with the fact I have gotten rid of… the James situation. With us…” your voice lowered at this point, shyly. “I want to take the chance on myself again, properly. Hannah has secured me a theatre agent - they aren’t big and flashy, but they are mine. And now even small public appearances… they become important for me. But I need to do this for myself… Without…”

“Without me.” Adam interrupted. A shy smile on his face. “You need to be seen on your own terms.”

You looked at the ground, then up at him, defiant. Smiling. He got it. Of course he did. He always did.

“Yes.”

“Amy, that is the best thing I’ve heard. I’m so fucking happy you’re doing this and I know you would never need my help, nor do you even need it. You know how talented you are, you’re strong as shit and...you can do this. You never needed me. That’s… that’s what’s so goddamn sexy about you. You don’t need the world, but you make the world want you. I mean you know I will support you in every way, but I know you’d never ask…Hannah is brilliant, you can count on her.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, he was looking down at you with a quiet admiration, eyes all soft intensity. He had a small splotch of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth which you reached up to swipe with your thumb as he stroked small circles against your back.

“I invested my Dad’s money to get an agent and eventually take Hannah on as my PA too, IF I get more work, which might never happen. 

“You know I could just…”

“I know. But I want to spend  _ my _ money on this. I want her to represent me as me, not us as a couple. Separate accounts.”

“You will get work. You know that right? You’re going to get some good opportunities, I have no doubt.”

“I hope so. But either way, I’m covered for a year. I can start auditioning again properly, get a look in, see what’s out there. But... it means tonight I go as me. So… if there’s photographers or anything like that, I want to lead. I don’t mean we’re not going together, or we don’t appear as a couple just...”

“You mean…”

“I mean if we get there and there’s cameras or anything like that, I want to deal with them alone first.”

“Well, I’m totally happy to literally avoid them so that’s fine with me.” he grinned, then pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “All kidding aside, there might be a few photos or whatever, but of course you should do your thing. I’m just happy to catch up with my friends. I’ll just hover in the background like… uh, some kind of lurking Big Foot… or whatever”. He screwed his face into an awkward smile, knowing he was doing his usual weird ramble...

“I love you Adam Douglas Driver. With your toothpaste face and your weirdnesses, and your unironed shirt.”

He looked down at the front of the shirt, the multitude of creases. 

“Does it look that bad?” 

“It looks like you slept with it on. Five nights in a row.”

“But...I can’t be bothered changing.”

“I know. And I love that. But you’re a big boy now, and tonight you’re on a date with me and I’ll be seen with you, so go put on something ironed.”

He laughed, looking sheepish and you winked at him, then mock kicked his leg with your stilettoed foot - he knew you were pushing him just for fun. But he diligently started unbuttoning the denim shirt and went to find something smart from the dry cleaners in the closet. 

He looked back at you as he put on a crisp dark blue plaid shirt. 

“Are you going to kick my ass like this a lot? Because honestly, if it was up to me I’d just be eating cereal all day and going out in my sweatpants everywhere.”

“I absolutely plan on kicking your ass a lot.”

He grinned as he finished buttoning up the new shirt, then came over to kiss you one more time.

“Good. Yes. Love you even more.”

You topped up your lipstick, closed your purse and motioned to Adam to get going, taking his hand and leading him down the stairs, feeling like the world was your oyster.

***

Sure enough when you got to the theatre - a small production of Usual Girls, Adam’s old Juilliard friend Grace Kim was playing lead - there was a small cordoned off VIP section in the lobby and a couple of photographers from the local arts press. You’d agreed you would step out the car first and walk in without Adam - not that you expected to be recognised but you wanted to at least go in first and he could follow. 

As soon as you entered the lobby, Adam still closing the door of the car, the photographers started papping.

“Amy Myers, can we get a shot of you with the Playbill?” 

_ They know my name? _ You wondered why you were surprised. You swallowed a sudden moment of terror as your stomach dropped and you suddenly felt alone, still new to this. You took a deep breath desperate not to show it, then looked up to face the cameras. From your left a hand reached out to give you a copy of the Playbill, you straightened your shoulders and stood as tall as you could then broke into a smile.  _ I hope to god they can’t see I’m clutching the stupid Playbill so hard I might tear it. _

“Thanks Amy, great shot!”

“Just one more…”

“How’s work going on your production?” You were taken aback, even though you’d planned for this, it surprised the hell out of you.  _ Ok, you can do this. Big smile. _

“Great, thank you. We have some amazing actors on board and we’ll be doing previews in six weeks.”

The girl who had handed you the Playbill before stepped into your peripheral vision and you recognised a shock of blonde.  _ Was it? _

“Amy? Oh you guys came!” - a squeal.

Greta Gerwig.

“Oh! Greta! Hey - oh Adam didn’t say you were coming?!” Boy you were glad to see her face.

She stepped over to you and pulled you into a hug, the cameras started again. She was in silk print pants and a bold green tailored blazer, no sight of Noah. Adam was still - apparently - lurking in the doorway where a crush of people were conveniently hiding him. 

“Oh, I nearly didn’t make it and wasn’t really sure who was on the guest list. Noah’s in LA, I thought I should get out of the house - I’ve been working non-stop, I needed to go do something! Is Adam here?”

You could sense the photographers wanting a more posed shot and Greta, without even thinking, turned and posed, her arm around you as you both smiled. You mirrored her as best you could, summoning your poise, feeding off her comfortableness at this. 

“He’s over there… oh wait… here he is.”

You heard the paparazzi go into a small noisy frenzy and a louder buzz of voices as Adam stepped properly into the lobby and wandered over to the edge of the photocall area where you were, still talking to someone behind him. The cameras and a couple of voices from the press section called out.

“Adam! Mr Driver, Adam can we get a photo?”

“Adam, please, a shot? Can you step over here please?”

You knew they wanted pictures just of him. That would be good press.

You looked over at him, smiling. He immediately caught your eye and Greta’s, giving a small, awkward wave at her, his lips pressed together as he heard the photographers calling. You turned to face him but didn’t move from your spot. Adam looked at the cameras and stepped in, immediately moving close to you.

“I’ll take one with my girlfriend. I’m here with her.” He stated firmly before wrapping his arm around your waist, the other in his jeans pocket.

Greta grinned at both of you and let you have the moment. The cameras went crazy.

“Mr Driver, Miss Myers - are you looking forward to the show this evening?”

Adam pulled you close and looked to you to answer first. You took his lead.

“We’re here for Grace, she’s a Juilliard graduate like us, it’s good to catch up with old alumni - we’re excited for her and to support new women’s writing.”

They lapped it up. You expected Adam to add something but he simply looked at you, beaming, and gave you a squeeze. He whispered down at you, “Let’s get out of here. I want to grab a drink before the show and… I don’t think we need to add anything do you?”

You squeezed him back, knowing he was making sure you got the share of the attention. Your smile was radiant.

“I’m done.”

“Ok, thank you.” Adam muttered at the paps with a dismissing wave of his hand and before he could move you started walking off, then reached behind to take his hand and lead him away, your stride confident, a quick flick of hair and last smile at the cameras before you joined Greta at the bar. 

“You lovebirds!” she cooed at both of you, pulling Adam into a hug. “Amy you look… glowy!”

Adam blushed like a beetroot and you grinned. You felt a massive adrenaline rush as he held you close, his hand almost crushing yours as if he was as proud as you were.  _ Dork _ , your heart melted.

“It’s probably stress” You joked, “We’re both working flat out at the moment!”

“Tell me about it, I haven’t seen Noah in two weeks and didn’t notice because I’ve been a hermit in my writing room. Adam, I haven’t seen you guys since dinner! I’m so excited for Marriage Story. Seriously, we need to hang - can we get a date in?”

Adam looked at you, and back up at Greta, then back at you.

“Oh, uh sure… Actually…”

“I moved in.”

“What?”

“I moved in. With Adam.”

Greta nearly spilled her drink before flinging herself at Adam again in another bear hug.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy! Yes! You guys are amazing. Adam!!!”

Adam rubbed the back of his head and gave you the most embarrassed look at all the fussing. 

“We want a housewarming.” You added. “Well… _ I  _ want a housewarming - or a moving-in warming. Or whatever the term is… I mean. Well, we haven’t really discussed it.” You grinned back at Greta and shot Adam a look that basically said “we’re having a housewarming.”

He looked at Greta and shrugged like it was already agreed, what power did he have?

Greta laughed, “Of COURSE you should have a party. When? Just give us a bit of notice. We’re coming. I’m not missing this.”

“Uh, I… don’t look at me, I don’t even… I have never organised a party in my life.” Adam shuffled from foot to foot, drinking from his beer to avoid having to finish the conversation and looking wildly around for someone to talk to and save him from both of you. Thankfully his friend Grace arrived, clad in a dressing gown, make-up for the show half on, to give a quick hello to friends in the assembled crowd before heading backstage. Adam looked relieved for the escape.

Greta pulled you to one side. “Call me, I’ll give you my cell. You are absolutely having a party. Adam will be terrified by the whole thing and grumble about it, then he’ll have two whiskies and probably start dancing.”

“I know. Look at him,” you giggled, “It’s like he can’t run away fast enough. I’m in love with a socially awkward tank. He can have such grace and poise and then… this! Mortars and bombs? No problem. Speeding down the I95 on his fucking motorbike? Sure! Hosting a party? Nah, get me away from here, night sweats! The terror!”

You both laughed. 

“When we shot Frances Ha, we had a wrap party. Adam was sulking in the make-up room hiding behind a book trying to be all ‘too cool’ tough guy. But then Noah twisted his arm and just like that, he was all in there, a charmer. He has two cocktails and he’s Mister stand-up comedian, telling jokes, doing his deadpan shtick and his banana dance thing. And he gets all philosophical, wants to tell you the entire plot of a book he read, like the WHOLE plot, the truths within, yadda yadda. It’s hilarious.”

“He’s such a dork really.”

“A brilliant dork.”

Adam, satisfied that you’d moved on from planning the mother of all house-warmings waved you over to meet his friend, handing you a glass of wine and blushing with pride as he introduced you. He really was glowing too, the pair of you were. You felt good. Like all the fear that had existed when you’d first met had evaporated. The “fuck-you” to James was like closing a door on a past life you never needed to see again. 

As Adam curled his arm around your waist, sang your praises to Grace and Greta joined in, along with a few other familiar faces in the crowd around you, you had a moment of pride at having owned your small appearance completely, at feeling totally in the moment. Your heart could burst right then, you wished your Dad could see you. You also needed to call Rose. You weren’t having a housewarming without her, or Jonathan. And at some point you needed to probably make contact with your Mom… all in good time… Family wasn’t something either you or Adam really had contact with, but that day was on the horizon, it couldn’t be put off forever. But for now, as the crowd were ushered into the theatre and Adam pulled you close and gave you one of his secret smiles, you didn’t need to think about anything. 

You walked to your seats and Adam leaned in to press a small kiss to your temple.

“There’s still one more tub of the Honey Cream at home, you know.” He whispered softly into the crook of your ear as you walked into the auditorium.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I hear it’s a great post-show dessert.”

“But...there’s an after-party. You don’t want to go?”

“Me and parties... Urrrgh… it’s, uh... I’ll invite Grace to the housewarming whatever it is… she and I need a proper catch up and it gives me an excuse. But tonight, there’s only one party I want.”

Your stomach did a small flip.

“If you say  _ ‘the one in your pants’ _ I am literally sitting in a different row from you.” you shot him a smirk and he nearly burst out laughing really loudly, instead dissolving into an awkward snort he had to cover with his hand.

“I was going to say ‘the private party back in our bedroom’ which, actually, now I hear it out loud is just as fucking awkward… ok, I’ll skip the puns. Basically…”

“... Basically, me, you and ice-cream in bed?”

“It’s a date. It’s our own housewarming.”

He steered you into your seats as the lights dimmed.

“I’m into it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a date. Now be quiet… show’s starting.”

“Ass-kicker.”

“You love it.”

“Yes.”  
  
  



	20. Let's Warm This House!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> ***  
> In which a fight is had.  
> And the make-up.  
> And a party.  
> And singing.  
> Yes, singing.  
> And AITAF.  
> And, just oh!  
> ***  
> Don't own, know or have anything to do with Adam or ANYONE mentioned here, real or fictional. I also know NOTHING about the Marine's so please bear with me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT A MONTH IT HAS BEEN! So sorry for my radar silence, was dealing with just a lot of emotional rubbish and life stuff. I promised I wouldn't abandon this fic! It took me ages to get it where I wanted it to go, and some parts I'm not keen on but I just wanted to get it out to unclog my writer's block.
> 
> For those who are wondering where my Tumblr went, I realised it's not the channel for me. I'm already trying to spend less time on social media and all that goes with it except to promote my small biz and adding another channel go stressful for me. I made lovely contacts on there but was not comfortable with it for myself.
> 
> From this chapter on, I will start doing chapters more like epilogues, snapshots of future moments, 3 months, a year, 4 years down the line, dipping in and out of little scenarios I really want to write.  
> PLEASE leave kudos and comments, they are the milk and honey that feed this poor soul! LOVE YOU ALL! xxx

September rolled into October, the days started to blur as you neared both your performance’s opening dates. In some ways, things were less stressful as you’d reached a point in your rehearsal now where you were perfecting small things, the focus was gearing more towards costume / music, dress runs. For yourself and Jonathan as producer - actors, it was also ramping up on the promotional side of things. 

In other ways, however, the real stress was just beginning.

Adam’s situation was similar to yours, although you’d found him more closed on himself in the past couple of weeks as he really started to work fully into his character. His cast were no longer rehearsing daily, but outside of rehearsals he was taking additional training with his coach and reading monstrous amounts of material relating to Medea, psychology of abuse, etc. He was.. _.how could you put it _ ? In a dark place… pacing the kitchen restlessly when he ate or cooked, hands even more fidgety with nervous intensity than usual, staying up super late in the office at night or going on lots of long, energy-driven, angry runs where he’d come home soaked with sweat and almost doubling up in pain. One night he went out at 2am and drove his motorbike around for two hours, without a word. 

It was a different side to him you were really experiencing now that you lived together. 

You knew that he knew that it was affecting the vibe at home, the tension between you. If anything you sensed that it was adding to his frustration, knowing how he was but not having much experience of sharing that with someone intimately, certainly not someone he cared for. And you were no push over, you happily let your stress spill into the apartment. You had no patience for his bullshit.

But neither did you really have a proper moment to actually sit down and address it, a long and calm, rational conversation. Both of you were in and out at different hours, grabbing time at home to walk Moose when you could (and you scheduled different days to take him to rehearsals, didn’t like asking Hannah to look after him), “free time” - those now mythical things called weekends - was spent reading / studying / promoting - a photoshoot here, a press call here. Hannah was a machine gun drilling timetables at both of you, on the phone hourly it seemed, with minutes only between one appointment and another. 

You and Jonathan were invited to a panel event on new theatre by the National Endowment for the Arts in D.C, a whirlwind 18-hour trip of handshakes, networking, speaking, having to be “on” the whole time, pitching your show as much as yourselves in this new space where you suddenly had potential careers ahead.

Then Adam went to LA for two nights, last minute. Literally 48 hours on the red-eyes. He had to meet with Noah for a casting table read of Marriage Story (he was working on something else out there and couldn’t head back), Hannah somehow worked in two interviews as well and a shoot for LA Times magazine. His fuse was short, eyes bloodshot and skin pallid when he flew back straight into a rehearsal on zero sleep. 

As the second week of October rolled around, your churlish rosy dreams of housewarmings seemed aeons away, the honeymoon period, mind-blowing sex had withered to little, every minute spent together you were both barely awake or grouchy. The New York autumnal air was humid and oppressively close and your nerves frayed largely in silence. Things eventually came to a head. 

…

You couldn’t really remember how the argument even started, only that it was over something completely stupid. A throwaway remark, a joke that landed badly between two tired people who hadn’t had much fun recently. Then you were in the kitchen, it was midnight. Both of you were operating on about four hours sleep, for the nth day in a row. 

You were shouting in frustration at Adam across the kitchen island, hair like a dishevelled bird’s nest on your head, his rumpled shirt haphazardly thrown on. You’d been woken up by him slamming the front door on his way in, woken from your blissful and insanely precious sleep, which you’d been struggling to get. 

You’d stomped down to the kitchen just to let him know how annoyed you were at having been woken up (ok, so you needed a glass of water too, but you were tired and frustrated from a stressful day when things had gone wrong for you. Oh and just generally rattled and nervous about EVERYTHING). So yelling at Adam felt good. Really good. You’d needed this.

He, of course, just stood there, tall, brooding, annoying as hell with his ridiculous size and presence which only made you feel angrier and smaller, the louder you got. He pursed his lips, chewing the inside of his cheek as his blood visibly boiled, hands clenched so hard round a coffee mug and the edge of the counter you thought you could hear both crack. And he said nothing, and that drove you even more mad. Why wouldn’t he scream back? He clearly wanted to. His quiet calm was unnerving. And so ANNOYING.

“It’s literally ALL I AM ASKING. I need sleep, Adam. You can’t keep slamming things like a car crash when you get in. I’m so fucking tired. It’s like your fucking midnight motorbike escapades.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I’ve never woken you up when I get up.”

“I never know where you fucking are! The first time you didn’t even leave a note, or anything. If anything happened I wouldn’t have a fucking reference or idea where to even begin. You don’t even think about that!”

“Jesus. You’re not my mother. I don’t need to tell you my every movement. If you don’t want to be woken up, why would I wake you to tell you where I’m going. Make up your mind.” - even he could hear how childish he sounded. He pursed his lips even thinner, hating himself and the sound of his own pettiness.  _ God I’m a dick _ , he thought.

_ His mother?  _ You blanched.  _ Oh, that was low. _

“Fuck you Adam. I’ve NEVER acted like your mother. But sue me for giving a shit. You ride that thing like a fucking formula one maniac. For all I know you’d go slamming off a bridge or something and I’d never know anything had happened or where you might be. Guess what, I CARE. I get nervous, and right now, I REALLY don’t need that.”

“So now I can’t do things because they make you NERVOUS? I don’t want a nanny. I need to be able to do my things.”

“I didn’t say don’t do your things. I’d NEVER tell you how to live your life. I just said leave me a goddamn note. Use those stupid giant thumbs of yours and text me. Even a technophobe like you can manage a text to let me know.”

“You wouldn’t read it at 2am.” Adam almost growled, his eyes dark and venomous. His mouth pursed even more, his disgust at himself roiled inside him.

_ Oh my goodness, what were you doing? You both sounded like four year olds arguing over possession of a lump of play-doh. Two rational, intelligent adults sounding like brattish preschoolers. When did you both get so stupid? _

You opened your mouth to retort with something sarcastic and angry again, but suddenly Adam placed the mug down on the counter, mainly to reach around and grab the canister of tea bags, but in his ire, his hands tensed, he banged it accidentally against the edge of the marble top and it shattered. You were both dragged as if out of a reverie, back to reality. 

“FUCKING SHIT!” he barked, hoarse.

Shards of ceramic splintered across the black marble and tinkled onto the floor. Your shoulders slumped and eyes filled with heated tears as a new wave of exhaustion came over you. Adam looked sheepish, retreating into his body, trying to diminish his size as he curled his shoulders round in his black sweater and his hair fell over his eyes. He looked at the floor. The broken mug at his feet. He was suddenly filled with a wave of embarrassment that almost shook his enormous body.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, until you had to sniff back a sting of tiredness tears, and wiped your nose on the sleeve of his Henley you were wearing. 

He looked up at you, a wave of tenderness overtaking him and he toed at the few shards of the mug over the kitchen tiles, then moved around the counter towards you.

Without a word he pulled you into a hug, which you practically slumped into, allowing your hot tears to roll into his sweater, your hands reaching up to press into his chest, solid and reassuring. His heart was hammering. 

“‘’M sorry, Amy. I’m...a fucking asshole.” he mumbled, tucking your head under his chin. 

“We both are. Giant dicks. I… I guess that was coming. We’ve both been on edge for ages.”

“Yeah, but…” He sucked in a deep breath, “I know I’ve been…”

“Brooding as fuck?”

“...Closed off and moody.” 

You both spoke over each other.

“I’m just… Adam this side of you is new for me, this level of - just everything. Work as well. I’m terrified, as much as I’m excited. And… I know why you are like you are right now, and that would be fine if we could just talk about it, but please don’t forget that things affect me because I care. I worry about you.”

“I’m not there enough for you right now, I’m sorry, I know it. I wish I could be, but…”

He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tighter.

“It’s ok, it’s hard for both of us to make time right now. I have support around me, you know that. I just… I need you to acknowledge that someone else cares where you are and how you’re doing. Not because I’m your fucking nanny, but because I love you enough to give a shit if you go careening off the Brooklyn bridge and they have to fish you out.”

He giggled quietly at this, a dissipation of his tension.

“I’ll text you next time.” his voice was so small.

“You know what I mean. It’s not just that. It’s not just the bike. It’s...”

“I know. I’m sorry. I… I get so focused, in my head. I’m get lost in the work I forget to stop. My brain just shuts everything else out.” 

A beat. 

“I miss you.” He said softly.

He kissed your cheek, wiping away a damp sticky tear with his thumb.

“Me too. I’m sorry. We… we need to make more time for ourselves to talk. Or even just… you know. Time for us.”

“Yeah...I’m not used to… not doing this on my own. When it’s all full on, I’m used to just doing things my way, regardless of anything or anyone else, and getting into my own thoughts. I’m… a pretty selfish individual, as a rule…”

You smiled against the wall of his chest and nodded slightly.

“You can be a bit, sometimes… but. I still love you. And I know you can also not be any of those things, and just be brilliant. With me at least.”

“I’ll do better. Promise. You deserve much better.”

“Yeah, you will. Or I’ll hurl the mug at your stupid big head next time.” you chuckled. 

“What’s with us and breaking crockery?” he joked.

“I don’t know… but I much prefer how the mugs got broken last time.” You grinned into him again and slid your hand under his sweater to palm at the soft, taut skin of his belly, teasing your fingernails through the soft hair of his happy trail. 

“I love you.” he whispered, as he lowered his lips to the warm patch of skin behind your ear, nibbling softly at it as he pressed ever-so gently into you, his wide hand curling tenderly around your breast as he moaned little noises into your skin. 

“I’m… I want you. Want to... but I’m so tired.” you moaned into him.

“Mmm… me too. Go to bed. I’ll clean this up and grab a tea real quick then I’ll be up”.

He kissed you, sweetly, soft lips all plush and hot. If your legs weren’t aching with exhaustion you’d wrap them round his hips then and there, but instead you uncurled yourself from him and dragged yourself back to bed, almost passing out as you hit the pillows. There was more to talk about, but not now. The most important was that the “vibe” was acknowledged, an apology had finally been aired. 

…

When Adam padded into your bedroom a few minutes later he placed his tea down on the bedside table and hurriedly discarded his clothes. You felt his presence in your sleep-hovering state, a heavy body, hot and thick lying beside yours, a press of limbs against yours. You felt the slide of his warm, large hand down over your skin, sliding the covers down with it to expose the tops of your thighs, the silky skin of your lower belly. You felt the hot press of a kiss against the curve of your hip as you turned your head in the pillow, eyes still closed, but lips parting as the kisses dipped along the edge of your panties, hot breath against your inner thigh, Adam’s large body curling gently over yours, his hair brushing over your hip bones, tickling your skin. 

You let out a soft breathy sigh as you parted your thighs, hitched quietly as your felt the tender press of his lips against your mound, the cotton covering your sex damp and musky. He kissed the damp patch of your panties with his open mouth, pressing soft little caresses of his tongue against the fabric, his hands teasing up and down your legs, whispering nonsensical words into you in his drowsy state. 

Two fingers hooked into your panties and slid them down your legs, a pleasing moan of satisfaction from deep in Adam’s chest as he kissed the wet curls of your sex, tongue dipping down to lick into you, teasing your pussy, lapping gently around your clit, suckling at you softly. He slid a finger inside you, so wet and hot, then another. Curling up to stroke the sweet spot he knew made you squirm. Then his mouth was relentless against your swollen bud, rhythmically licking to the left of it, the flat of his tongue stroking over it, the knuckles of his fingers teasing around your clit - a heady combination. His fingers shone slick with your arousal as he pumped them inside you. He was hard, aching, and pressed his erection into the mattress for relief. The sight of your arched back, breasts raised, hair spread around you like a halo, the soft breathy sounds from your lips, the taste of you, always turned him on almost violently.

Your hands slid into his hair as you pressed back into your pillow, the silvery moonlight dancing off the pale skin of Adam’s back, the muscles of his shoulders curving and rolling as his head dipped between your legs, licking you hungrily, his lips moving against yours, lapping at your juices, teasing the delicate little nub of your clit, making your thighs tremble and your heart flutter. 

_ God, you tasted so sweet. Oranges and sex. He wanted to hear you come. Wanted to feel absolved, wanted your forgiveness. Wanted to feel you shudder when you fell apart on his tongue. Wanted to never stop tasting you.  _

When you came it was quiet, a ripple of liquid warmth rolling through your body, a soft sigh, thighs clamped around Adam’s head as he continued kissing you, knees shaking. 

Eventually he slid up your body, curling you into him in the tightest embrace, his strong arms like a shield, his body a wall of heat, his lips - salty with the taste of your undoing - soft like a peach as he kissed you. His cock poked into your belly, both of you too tired to do anything about it, both smiling as you simply wrapped your hand around it, pressing soft kisses to his nose, his cheeks, the two tiny moles above his left eye as he whispered “I love yous” and you both, promptly fell asleep. 

  
  


***

Your combined alarms rang out at 7 am the next morning. Adam, who recently had been up doing weight training and runs every morning at 5 am was still in bed, arms curled loosely around your waist, his top lip stuck with dried drool against your shoulder blade. He shifted slightly, tightening his embrace and mumbling indecipherable somethings as he unstuck his mouth from you. 

You turned to face him, kissing his lips as you tangled your legs around his. 

“Morning sleepy head.” you grinned. “Not running today?”

“Not today.” He whispered, kissing you back. “I’ll go and train later. Wanted to wake-up beside you.”

A small curl of a smile whispered over his face.

“Oh! My sappy goofball boyfriend is back!” You swatted him playfully on his arm.

“Wait, uh, you mean your dashingly handsome playboy?” he quipped.

“Wait, he’s here too? Where?” 

You sat up and made like you were searching around the room in bewilderment before Adam pulled you back down to him grinning and deepened his kisses, tongue exploring your mouth as you straddled him, chuckling. He nudged his erection eagerly between your legs, revelling in the feel of you, your warm, soft, naked skin, his hands cupping your ass as you slid yourself against his length, hot and wet for him. 

“Mmm, fuck it - let’s be late for work.” He groaned as he sheathed himself inside you, making you gasp as he filled you - no preambles this morning. His hips tilted up off the mattress as he gripped you hard, your tight warmth slick and ready for him, making his heart beat faster. He brushed a lock of hair from your face and gazed up at you, eyes still soft from waking, but dark and heated - wanting. You pressed your fingers to his lips and he kissed the tips of them, a small act of reverence as you started to move with him.

You rolled your hips slowly against his as he rocked inside you, no rush, no hurrying, not like the last few times you’d made love. He was deliberately taking his time, deliberately making time for both of you. You leaned over him, your hair falling around his face and he looked right at you, eyes beseeching, searching momentarily to make sure there was no longer a trace of anger or sadness in your face. You beamed at him and a small, tender curl of a smile broke on his face as his breath hitched, your thighs clenching him tighter inside you.

“We just had our first fight.” you whispered at him, nipping at his lips, eyes mischievous. “So... this the make-up sex?”

“It’s the first of lots of make-up sex.” He thrust into you harder, hips rocking up as his fingers splayed across the dip of your spine, a hand reaching up to trace the curve of your breast, teasing at your nipples before claiming one with his lips, his tongue.

“I was SO mad at you last night.” you chuckled, between small shocks of pleasure.

“I got that vibe”, Adam smiled, more bashful this time. “It won’t be our last fight.”

“That’s for sure. But I’m almost glad it happened… we needed to clear the... OH!” Adam’s fingers reached down between you, to where his cock was sliding into you, caressing between your folds to find your clit and you leaned back to give him access. 

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you…” Adam mocked, fingers working quick magic as he stroked you, feeling his cock as he fucked into you, thrusting harder, faster, your hips rutting forward against him, hands gripping the muscles of his arms. 

“I… are you trying to… oh, right there… shit…” You couldn’t remember what you’d been saying as he pushed deeper inside you and rose up to claim your mouth in a heated kiss. He stroked your clit faster with the pad of his thumb, his fingers digging bruises into the flesh of your thigh. You were close.

“I…” Adam started to talk then halted as you clenched, tightening around his cock, shifting forwards to pull him as deep inside you as possible. “Fuck, Amy…” 

You felt the beginnings of your orgasm roll through your body and lay down across Adam’s chest, wanting to feel your skin against his. His wide hand left it’s teasing dance across your clit to move around you, pulling you into a crush against him as he fucked hard and fast inside you, his hands gripping your hair as he felt you start to shiver above him. 

“I love you…” he bit into the soft flesh of your shoulder, his tongue searing against your skin.

“Adam… kiss me.” 

He moaned into your mouth as he came, chest shuddering beneath you, thighs clenched and tense as you felt yourself fall apart. 

You showered together before going to work, holding each other under the spray as he lazily rubbed his soaped hands across the skin of your back and you told each other about your previous day, finally airing all your frustrations and small victories from rehearsals, travels, tiredness, schedules for the rest of the week. He kissed you slowly and tenderly under the water then, when you were done, he toweled your hair dry as you sat on the ledge beside the twin sinks while you brushed your teeth, one hand rested on his slim hip as he told you about the study texts he’d been reading. 

You were both running late, but this was more important. This was the time you’d needed, the little moments. 

It was Adam’s turn to take Moose to rehearsals but you agreed to meet later that day - coaching be damned - to walk him together and eat a proper dinner together. He was making peace between you, and you forgave him in your kisses as he left the apartment. 

***

Your greatly improved mood as you both walked Moose through Prospect Park that evening was palpable in the little touches you gave each other, a return of softness to Adam’s face, some of the dark from beneath his eyes had lifted. He was so cheerful, in fact, you decided now was the moment to get your request in. Well, not really a request… it was a demand. He wasn’t going to be allowed to wriggle out of it, you grinned to yourself.

He was throwing a ball for Moose to catch, watching him scamper wildly between the trees, kicking up fallen leaves as his tail waggled furiously in excitement. 

“So… we both have a few free days before dress rehearsal and opening nights, right? I think a few of our free days overlap. So I was thinking… since we could both use some socialising, and… you know… loosening up…”

Adam kept his eyes on Moose, but you noticed his brow furrow. The beginnings of “the glare”. 

“Are you about to ask me about the house warming?” he started grumbling, hands fishing about the pockets of his Barbour coat looking for one of Moose’s dog treats...

“No…”

Sigh of relief.

“I wasn’t asking…” You grinned. Adam found a treat and held his hand out for Moose, then turned towards you, his face half in a grimace, half resigned. 

“No, ha, I didn’t think you were.” Then his face broke into a boyish chuckle as he saw your defiant stance, hands on hips, head cocked to the side, chin up. You didn’t back down, but cocked an eyebrow at him. 

“It’s happening. I’m merely informing you.” You started to giggle. “Adam, it’s a little get together, not dental surgery. Plus you can invite your friends you haven’t seen in forever, you know you’ve been meaning to catch up with people. Don’t you have a couple of your former marine friends in town this month?”

He nodded weakly, but he was smiling now, as Moose gobbled the treat from his hand and Adam secured his leash to his collar. He walked over to you and popped a kiss on the end of your nose.

“I don’t do fun. I suck at parties.” He waved a hand earnestly and shook his head. “I just… can I just sit in the office in the dark and ponder, uh, I don’t know… the desolation of existence?” He rubbed the back of his neck and chewed his cheek.

“No.” you swatted his arm.

“Ok. Just checking.” He grinned. “Let’s do it.” He pulled you into a hug. “You’re right, I need to see my friends.”

You knew then, he was mocking you and laughed. Although you wouldn’t put it past him to leave his own party to go and sit in a room quietly somewhere and nurse a drink and think too much. 

“Good boy. You know I’m right. Also, bullshit, you like parties. You just think you don’t. You’ll like this one, I promise.” 

“Look at you, you’re like this scheming little minx.” He winked at you. “Cool, well, fine - just, a couple of conditions.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well, actually,  _ I’m _ all ears” he joked, pulling you close to him as you wrapped your hands around his waist, warming them against the wool sweater under his coat. 

“Oh, it’s comedy hour at the Adam Driver caf é!” you quipped back. 

“Oh yeah, that’s me. Just wait while I find my prompts…” you both giggled.

“Conditions. Tell me.”

“Ok, first, can we keep it low-key. Just a few people. Please?”

“Of course! I don’t want a cast of thousands. It’s a house warming, not a rave! I don’t even know that many people.”

He softened.

“Ok, two, I know you’ll want to organise it all, but you’re exhausted and it should be fun, so please let Hannah sort out, I don’t know… the catering or whatever.” He waved his hand. 

“Promise.”

“Three… be prepared for, uh... It might be weird if my army friends come - it’s… they’re a different crowd. You know. They’re not boujie theatre people. But they are my oldest friends - we can get…you know, not rowdy, but…”

“Adam, they’re your friends. I can’t wait to meet them - it will make a nice change from all the flouncing and theatricals, trust me. I mean I love my crew to death, but I could use some real life at the moment too. Although Jonathan will bring enough Broadway for all of us…”

“It’ll be some, uh, interesting mingling, for sure. I think the guys from my former platoon think I grew an extra head when I went to Juilliard. Or it disappeared up my ass, or something. But it’s good, I want to talk to Noah about AITAF stuff, it could be good if he can meet some of my boys.”

“See? You’re warming to the idea...Thank you. For this. It’ll be fun. Promise.”

“Just… make sure there’s plenty of bourbon.” He took your hand and you started walking home, where you had two steaks marinating that he’d prepared and a movie all lined up to go. He was making every effort, even as you were both back on the grind again in the morning.

“I’ll message people in the morning. How about, we do it on a Thursday, then hit the lakehouse for the remaining weekend days? Take the car, no scripts, no study books, no laptops.”

“Yeah, perfect. That sounds like a plan. You read my mind…”

You walked off home through the park as the autumn leaves fell around you. 

“Oh and speaking of AITAF…” he trailed off. You’d spoken about it the other day, another conversation that had never really taken off as everything went crazy. 

“Yes?”

“I’d love it if you wanted to get involved too. When things quiet down. I mean… obviously we have a team that manage it all now, but… what if we both took part in a reading?”

“Together? You mean a performance?”

“Yeah. I can’t do Osan or Camp Pendleton this year because they clash with Medea, but we always do a Spring show and if I block it in, I want to go along. I hate missing the trips. I used to have time to go to all of them. You should come with. I’ve got a few people interested already...”

“You’d really like me to get involved? Because you know I’d love to. I did similar work - ok, much smaller scale, but theater in hospitals. It’s… I’d love it so much, it’s something I’d like to do more of.”

He gripped your hand tighter as you walked and shot you a sincere and serious look. 

“I’d love it if you joined me. And you’d be amazing with the team on the ground, you’re way better at connecting on a human level than I am, I mean, I can talk shit with the boys and do all the presenting and stuff, but I overthink all of it and then I get all nostalgic and over-analyse and… anyway...I think you’d really help get some of the less familiar audience to open up to dialogue after… get them motivated. Let’s… talk more about it?”

“Sure. Let me get the show out of the way.” 

“Of course, you and me both.”

You stopped walking. You were on a leafy street corner just a few minutes from the apartment, in the autumnal shade of a large elm. The wind was fresh and whipped red leaves all around your ankles. You reached up to grab the lapels of Adam’s jacket and pressed a hand to his cheek, scratchy with a few days’ stubble, his hair poking out in curls from under a grey beanie.

“I really do want to get involved. And for us to perform together. Seriously.”

He stroked your cheek, his eyes searching yours as you tilted your head up to meet his. His hand slid to stroke the back of your neck and he pressed his forehead to yours. Moose was scratching at the toe of Adam’s boot between you.

“You’re amazing. I don’t think I said that this week, or enough lately. But it’s fucking true and I should say it more often.”

“I won’t stop you.” You grinned.

“I’m serious. You keep me grounded. You don’t put up with my shit and you kick my ass when I’m being a pessimistic idiot. I don’t know what I did to strike this jackpot...” he kissed you again, heated, grateful, awed.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


Two weeks later, the end of October and you both had four days off. Your first day of freedom without rehearsals you stayed in bed until midday, eating bagels, reading all your accumulated back copies of Rolling Stone you hadn’t had a chance to read. Adam took Moose for a 3 hour walk. You both read in the back garden all afternoon and ordered take out, watched old movies and had sex in the bath. Adam phoned his parents - a rare moment - locked away in the office. He was trying to arrange for you to finally meet, you knew you needed to do the same at some point, although your relationship with your mother was just as distant, if not more. You perched in the deep plush armchair in the reading alcove and finally started work on a script you’d been thinking about. It was bliss. You both made a promise to leave rehearsals and work behind for all four of the days, even if Adam - the ever workaholic - struggled to detach.

The following evening you’d managed to round up a couple of dozen friends for your house warming, and despite his earlier misgivings, you could tell Adam was looking forward to catching up with his old platoon mates. Noah and Greta were coming, Kerri Russell (you fangirled at this) and her husband and a couple of other actors he was close to, Billy Crudup, Maechi, whom he’d studied with at Juilliard and regularly performed with AITAF, your friends Rose, Jonathan, a couple of your other actor friends from the production, a couple of your friends from Tisch, three of Adam’s old army buddies, his friend Grace Kim. You both agreed to invite Hannah too, she was familiar with all the actors and was practically family. It was an odd mix, actors, film students, your friends, Adam’s army guys. It didn’t matter. Knowing him and knowing you, it would be an intimate evening, casual, fun, carefree - the circle of trust, no theatrics or puffed up pretensions. Adam didn’t let people into his private life casually and you certainly didn’t want to celebrate this moment with a big audience you didn’t know.

Hannah had organised a ridiculously good spread of food from your favourite burger joint: mini sliders, gourmet burgers, five kinds of slaw, vegan dogs, big salads, mini cheescakes, a ton of sides. You made two giant pitchers of rum punch and a make-your-own mojito station. The fridge was bursting with wine. Despite the cold, the fire pit in the garden was lit and you had blankets and a couple of heaters installed so people could hang out outside. Adam finally got to put his old vintage jukebox to use, instead of it just sitting there. It was cranking out Talking Heads as people started to arrive. Both of you were dressed casually, you in a denim dress, Adam in a simple plaid button down and black jeans, his facial hair now fully groomed, making him look even more handsome than usual, his hair skimming his shoulders, he’d grown it for Medea. He was bulked out for the performance too, two months of intense physical training and he looked… just so big. Flaming hot. You were buzzing, your first real sort of ‘outing’ as a couple that was just for you, rather than a press event.

Adam’s old platoon mates arrived first, his friend Josh heading the group. He and Adam had joined the marines at the same time and both were trained as mortarmen. Josh was a burly, short, clean shaven guy of 40 with a wide grin and gentle eyes, his wife Thea was with him, bubbly, with jet black hair and a loud laugh. Trailing behind were two more of Adam’s old platoon. No sooner had they set foot in the apartment than Josh had Adam in a headlock and was playfully drubbing his head, making jokes about “Ears 2” and mock wrestling him. When Adam introduced you, Josh literally lifted you off the floor in a bear hug, winking at your conspiratorially.

“So YOU’RE the secret sauce that got this giant doofus all twisted in knots, huh? He’s done well!” He turned to Adam and shook his hand, “Seriously, man, well done buddy. We knew you had it in you secretly.”

You laughed, kissing his wife on both cheeks and handing them both a glass of punch as the other two, Mike and Eduardo both came in. 

Eduardo, more formal, shook your hand before presenting you a huge bouquet of flowers. You blushed. 

“Yeah, see unlike these two gonzos my mum taught me to always bring a gift when invited. Plus, you know, you’re stuck with Adam now, so… I figured a gift of flowers is the least you deserve, for your sins. I also have a great therapist…” he joked.

All three were still active, stationed in Fort Leavenworth but all from the East Coast and on leave. They were boisterous and fun, in an innocent, boyish way - the energy between the four of them, Eduardo, Adam, Mike and Josh was infectious - a vibrant energy, effervescent, silly yet also easy, with few words needed between them to somehow convey so much. Hiding perhaps more troubled things that lay beneath that anyone outside of their world would struggle to understand. The unspoken bond of a platoon. Adam’s face lit up around them, smiles you had previously only seen reserved for you. Actor Adam felt a million miles away, this was a simple guy from Indiana, curious about the world, driven, energetic, confident, relaxed, playful, a quiet fighter. You felt like you were falling in love with him all over again. He caught you smiling at all of them and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest as he chatted away to his friends. Then Rose and Jonathan arrived, then Greta and Noah, Grace, Billy. Then the rest. 

Any nerves you’d had about the weird mix were soon dissipated as Adam introduced his army friends to Grace and Noah and they immediately got talking about AITAF - Grace had done a couple of AITAF performance tours at Fort Leavenworth in the past, and Adam had worked with Josh to set it up, so they had something in common, and Noah was always an open listener, curious about everything and Josh talked to him about various arts programmes in the army, recent tours in Syria, Grace chipping in with stories of her grandparents who had fought in WW2.

Three hours in and the wine was flowing, everyone had arrived, some were chatting out in the garden, playing with Moose, others were sat on the floor in the reading alcove, records being played, taken off, added. Hannah’s booming Queens-accented voice boomed occasionally across the open plan space as she laughed, Jonathan and BIlly were swapping theatre stories. The apartment buzzed with chatter and music. You - like most of everyone else - had kicked off your shoes and were now sat on the kitchen counter, a glass of punch in hand, slider in the other, somehow convincing Greta to help you with writing a new script you had been tinkering with, which even more unbelievably she was agreeing to. 

  
  


Adam, who had by this point sequestered a bottle of whisky and had been out in the back garden with his friends, goofing around with Moose and catching up on his friend’s adventures, ambled back in, eyes merry and a little lighter on his feet than usual. He was a little tipsy, his cheeks flushed, his lips pink and parted in a wide, happy smile, all dimples and teeth. He came over to join you, whisky tumbler swamped by his giant hand, the sleeves of his dark red plaid shirt rolled up past his elbows, the thick cotton smelling faintly of woodchip where he’d been sitting by the firepit. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, a little shiny from the booze. He curled his thick arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple, whispering - not as faintly as evidently he was hoping, “love you”, before Greta nudged him in the ribs, laughing, then ruffled his hair.

“Look at you, all sappy. Where is the real Adam and what have you done with him?”

You turned into him, resting your arm over his, looking up at him as he gazed at you, with a slightly pathetically adoring look, eyes all wide. You looked back at Greta.

“See? He loves parties.You were right.”

“I like whisky.” he retorted. Then grinned. 

“Amy and I are talking about maybe writing something together.” Greta started, clutching Adam’s arm, all enthusiasm in her big bold way.

“Amazing. Actually… you know, I was talking out there, with Josh - you met Josh right? Anyway, so… Amy and I, well… ok, next year we wanted to do a tour together, with AITAF - “

He stopped himself, then looked at you, hesitant, “are you ok if I… I mean, we haven’t really talked.”

“It’s fine Adam, of course I’m ok with it.” He squeezed your side, so eager, his face somehow still in awe that you were even there beside him. He looked back at Greta.

“Yeah, so we want to go together next year, I thought Amy and I could do a performance together - a duologue. Get her involved in the readings. We usually do an overseas visit around April, probably Germany or even Kuwait. Maybe you could…” he motioned between you and Greta, as always his hands trying to express the words even faster than he could get them out as his brain raced in it’s roundabout way. “How about if you both wrote an original piece? We give a Bridge Award, like a, uh, grant, every year, for new writing. It’s usually announced in Spring, so maybe Amy and I could perform a new piece from you both, to… maybe encourage people to take part? Like a showcase?”

You both stared at him. Half a bottle of whisky in and he was basically being brilliant. 

Greta squealed, “YES!” as you started nodding, it was a perfect idea. 

“I mean, it’s a lot to ask, I realise that - I’m just throwing random ideas here, just what’s, uh, you know, it’s what I was thinking just now, but obviously you want to think about it. And other commitments, or whatever… but… it would be great, if you could. You’re both excellent writers.”

“Adam, it’s perfect” Greta beamed. He looked down at you, wanting your approval.

“I would love it. I mean it. I can’t think of a better audience as well for a first original piece. I mean, let’s revisit when I’m not totally full of punch, but yes. It’s a shit hot idea!”

Without reserve, the whisky talking now, Adam pulled you into him and pressed a loud kiss to your lips, smiling against your mouth.

Someone, somewhere, had found an old selection of Sondheim songs on vinyl and had rigged up the old record player on the bookcase in the reading alcove. You heard the distinct sound of Jonathan striking up in song, and a couple of other people who were lounging on the sofa joined in from across the room. 

You looked at Greta as Jonathan’s Broadway warble got louder. Drunken, but still pitch perfect. 

“Is that…?

“Sondheim?

“Yes… it’s... Oh my god, is he singing A Moment With You? Jesus, I had this all through Juilliard, he NEVER stopped singing this all the goddamn time!” 

Adam started laughing too, and singing softly into his whisky glass, one hand mapping out the tune in the air as you whispered the words along with him.

“He’s good…” Adam said, between quietly, awkwardly singing along, trying to remember the lyrics.

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll never stop” you laughed.

Suddenly, Adam broke away from you and ambled over to where Jonathan was holding court to a small group stood by the jukebox, hands flexed by his chest, holding out invisible trouser braces and tapping out small waltz steps as he sang. He was holding a fork as a pretend microphone.

You watched, standing down from the counter to join others gathering around the space. Adam ran a hand through his hair as he sidled up to Jonathan, who gave him a wink, inviting him openly to join in. Jonathan handed him a spoon someone had left on a table and handed it to him, Adam’s “mic”.

You held your breath, this was definitely a sign of the whisky - or maybe Adam was finally just letting himself be, like the evening at Greta and Noah’s when you’d just started dating and you first saw him really relax with other people.

Adam grabbed the spoon, giving it a comical once over and raised eyebrow, then put his glass down on the floor, cleared his throat, shook his arms a bit to loosen them then stood up and stared right at you. Then he started singing.

_ “... _ _ And so _

_ I'm on call _

_ For the first romance that comes through _

_ In no time at all _

_ I could very easily _

_ Fall in love with you…” _

You blushed a deep tomato red. Behind you, you heard Josh shout “oora!” and pat you on the shoulder, chuckling, “Someone  _ please _ get this on camera so we can show the guys back at base. This is gold right here.”

You heard Noah whisper “This is amazing, I need to use this… I mean I knew he could sing, but I never actually heard it properly. Even drunk, he’s really good.”

You laughed, half in disbelief, half because your heart was swelling to the size of a melon.

And on he went, looking sheepish, hands all nervous energy, but committed, face serious, concentrating, a shy smile at one corner of his mouth, eyes locked on you and only you, like the rest of the room had disappeared.

_ “...It took _

_ Sigmund Freud _

_ Years to learn what makes people feel blue _

_ But I'm overjoyed _

_ I avoid being low _

_ Just by spending a moment with youuuu...” _

The song reached it’s closing crescendo as Jonathan and Adam both took the warble to a higher level, looking at each other like an old cabaret singing couple as the small gathered audience started whooping and clapping. Adam did a brief nod as Jonathan bowed profusely, then dumped the spoon on a table and ran a hand through his hair, biting his cheeks awkwardly and asking Billy, who was stood nearest, to “pass me the Johnnie Walker and get me out of here…”, BiIly laughed and patted him on the back, filling his tumbler up.

Adam ambled over to you, smoothing down his shirt as Jonathan moved on to a different musical - he was not going to ever stop now.

Greta was just gaping at him, Rose was giggling - she’d joined you half way through the little performance. 

“Adam, that was… special.” she chuckled.

“Sondheim is the best.” He stated quietly, taking a sip of his drink like he didn’t just floor the room with his uncharacteristic performance. 

You were just melting inside. This towering, handsome man, so completely unaware of his beauty, his presence so overwhelming in the crowd, his eyes boring into you, his song that you knew was just for you, really, despite the gathering watchers. He was staring at you intensely, making your cheeks flush. You bit your lip, you wanted him. So fucking much, in that moment.

You filled your wine glass and tugged gently on the hem of his shirt pulling him down so you could whisper into his ear.

“I, um… think there’s something I need help with… in… the other room…” 

He looked confused for a moment, like he hadn’t heard you. You nodded towards the back stairs, eyes trying to convey what you were feeling… 

“Oh.” The penny dropped. “Sure, yes. I’ll help you.”

You moved through the crowd, taking his hand and leading him towards the bathroom by the back stairs, checking the room once over - everyone was deep in conversation, eating, drinking, laughing, no one was paying the slightest bit of attention.

You pulled Adam into the bathroom and promptly locked the door behind you.

“What… you need help with…I’m?” He looked around, not understanding, putting his drink down by the towel stacks.

You walked straight over to him and pulled at his shirt, stretching up on tiptoe to crush your lips to his, shutting him up, your mouth desperate to taste him. You were so horny you thought you might combust, the singing had destroyed you. 

He moaned instantly, loud, a growl as he finally cottoned on to what you wanted. He responded like a live wire, arms reaching round your tiny waist to lift you against him, his body a thick wall of heat, hands spreading across your lower back, the curve of your ass. He bit down on your bottom lip, tongue licking into you as he pushed off from the edge of the sink counter to spin you round and sit you down on the ledge. 

“Fuck me, Adam. Right now.” You reached for the loop of his belt, fiddling with the buckle.

“I.. are you sure? Here?” Even as he spoke he pulled your legs to the very edge of the counter, wrapping them around his waist, pressing the thick weight of his erection between your legs as he slid you dress up over your thighs. He leaned over you, pushing your back into an arch as he kissed you brutally, your arms moving up to snake around his shoulders as you felt him grind against your clit, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with anticipation, nerves electric. 

“Now, please. Need you…”

You undid his belt as he hooked the lace of your panties to one side and found you dripping wet, fingers sliding into you as you pushed his jeans down, his breath coming out in pants, the shock of his teasing circles over your swollen clit causing you to whimper, cunt clenching with need.

“Fuck, you’re so wet…. So fucking wet. Amy…” He drifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them, eyes locked on yours as he tasted your arousal, before dipping back in to your wetness, eager to bring you off.

You reached your small hand between you and grasped his cock, thick, hot, so big - the head dripping with pre-cum and he gasped, pressing his forehead to yours and looking down between you as you stroked him, both of you already so close. There was no time to undress, you just needed him inside you, as soon as possible. 

He ripped your panties down as you lifted the hem of his shirt to watch as he guided himself inside you, filling you in one hot, quick thrust before claiming your mouth with his. You gripped the ledge with one hand and pulled at the thick locks of hair behind his neck with the other as he started to fuck you. It was rough, dirty, horny - he grunted as he drove into you, your nails digging into his flesh, your lips, the tight heat of your cunt making him wild. The knowledge that a whole party of your closest friends was outside the door, oblivious to the pair of you fucking like teenagers in the bathroom made you both feel even more turned on. 

He pumped harder, watching as you teased your clit between you, your small, slender fingers rubbing at the sweet little bud, feeling your walls clenching around him, milking him. 

“Fuck Amy, I’m going to come so fucking hard.”

You locked eyes on his, unable to speak just wanting him to watch you when your orgasm hit. Wanted to fall apart under his gaze. 

“I’m going to come Adam. Watch me.”

His face was flushed red, eyebrows frowning in concentration trying not to come before you, painfully aroused at the sight of you, face dewy with sweat, cheeks heated pink, lips swollen and eyes hot for him. Your words would kill him, if your small body clenching around his cock didn’t. 

He thrust once, twice and you came - like a roll of thunder that came from nowhere the sensation hit you like a bolt, a loud cry from inside you that Adam tried to muffle with his hand as you bit down on the soft flesh of his palm, riding out your orgasm as your thighs trembled around his waist, hands gripping at his arms. 

“Shit… holy shit…” Your chest was heaving and he barely had time to steady you on the edge of the bathroom counter before he felt himself spill inside you, his balls tight, cock throbbing as he came hard, lips crashing against yours to absorb the hoarse moan escaping his chest. 

You were still shaking from the moment when there was a knock on the door.

“Is someone in there?” You heard a muffled voice. 

You both sat up alert, stock still, Adam still inside you, his jeans by his ankles, shirt crumpled and half pushed up his chest, your dress half unbuttoned, panties dangling off one foot. 

“Shit.” you both said, before starting to laugh, really quietly.

“Here, let me…” Adam pulled out from you, leaving a dripping trail against the skin of your inner thigh, suddenly all tenderly concerned as he grabbed a towel and handed it to you, as he pulled up his jeans and arranged himself. He helped you down off the counter, with a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Just a second!” you hollered, hoping to stave off whoever was waiting for the bathroom long enough to think of an excuse.

“No problem!” 

You ran the towel under the faucet for a moment and cleaned between your legs before pulling your panties back on, throwing the towel into the laundry basket and patting down your hair into a semblance of put together.

Adam was still chuckling as he watched you, picking his glass up, whispering “That was… amazing…” his eyes grinning. 

“What do we say?” He was too tipsy, to sex drunk to think at this point. He just wanted everyone to go home now so he could have you all over again.

“Er… let me handle it.You just.. Stay quiet.” You giggled.

You gave yourself both a once over in the bathroom mirror, then reached for a random pack of something from the top drawer of the bathroom cabinet and opened the door.

Grace stood on the other side, and raised an eyebrow at both of you, before looking quizzical. Adam just looked sheepishly at her, cheeks reddening, saying nothing.

You looked up, and breezily, as casually as possible just said,

“Oh, hey Grace! Sorry, uh, one of my contact lenses fell out and Adam was just… uh, helping me find my new pack…” You waved what was actually a pack of ibuprofen at her, vaguely, before walking confidently out of the bathroom, “all sorted!” you muttered, cheerfully. 

Adam trailed behind with a shrug, taking a long sip of his drink to avoid any conversation, eyes looking anywhere but at Grace as you both rejoined the party.

***

By 3 am everyone had left. You were stretched out on the sofa, sprawled over Adam’s chest, legs tangled with his, a throw pulled over both of you, his fingers trailing lazily through your hair as he kissed your forehead. The faint rumbles of Bob Dylan were wafting through the airwaves from the jukebox, the lights dimmed. Moose, exhausted from all the excitement was curled up under the coffee table, snoring. 

You played with the collar of Adam’s shirt, smelling his smoky, whisky-laden scent as his chest rose and fell beneath you with his deepening breaths.

“Thank you” he said softly, after a moment.

“For what?” you mumbled into his shirt.

“For just… for organising this. For reminding me to see my friends. For pulling me out of my head. Or my ass. Or both.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

He chuckled. “I’m very grateful I was able to, uh… help with your contact lenses.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

“You sang for me.”

“I did. I can assure you that is unlikely to happen again… any time soon…” You felt him purse his lips, then smile shyly. 

“I loved it. I love you. So much.”

“Me too.” He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pressed his lips to your hair. 

“So three days off, huh? I’ve never needed them more. You have to promise me you won’t bring work with you to the lakehouse. Nothing. No scripts. No related reading.” You made sure he understood how serious you were.

“I promise. Honestly… Just food. And wine. And you...Oh, we could go foraging.”

“Foraging? For mushrooms and… whatever?”

“Yeah. My Dad taught me, when I was younger. We’d go sometimes, picking mushrooms and squash, or whatever. When I wasn’t being a little douchebag kid we’d hang out sometimes and he’d teach me what to look for.”

“I like it. Ok. Foraging. And chill.”

“And sex.”

“Yes. And sex.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You fell asleep right there amidst the mess of the party, safe and warm and drunk, on wine, on each other. The last calm before opening night. Before Broadway took off and everything changed. 

***


	21. They Say The Neon Lights Are Bright On Broadway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which The New Yorker magazine announces Broadway's fairytale power couple...  
> ***  
> In which a hot dog stand once more makes an appearance.  
> ***  
> In which Jonathan can't stop hogging the microphone.   
> ***  
> This chapter is the first of what will now be episodic snapshots of Adam and Amy at different moments in the future as we dip in and out of the growing relationship. Our two fluff birds are super fluffy in this (with a side dose of smutty fun, because...)  
> ***  
> CW: There is the tiniest bit of ass play at the end of this chapter. If you want to avoid, stop reading after "I want to tease you" and you can pick up again at "Fuck he loved you..."

****

**The New Yorker,** **_Culture & Arts _ **

**‘Notes from The Stage’** **_\- by Tamara Holsbeck_ **

_ New York enters fall’s theatrical season in full swing, with two hotly anticipated shows: one on and one off-Broadway, made all the more enticing by the quiet, blossoming love-story that binds them, taking place behind the curtains... _

_ Just three days ago, Medea - in a new adaptation by Simon Stone - opened to rousing applause at The Ambassador on West 49th. A taut ensemble cast is led with intense power, physical agility and a simmering vulnerability by Adam Driver - here for an eight-week run in a rare, but welcome break from his seemingly unstoppable on-screen rise to glory. A Juilliard graduate with a solid theatrical repertoire under his belt, Driver’s meteoric rise to fame following Star Wars means he was last seen treading the boards in the capital in 2013’s Tony-nominated The Irredeemables. His theater appearances since then have been mostly brief, sporadic performances in small bursts through his not-for-profit organisation Arts in the Armed Forces which brings contemporary theater to military audiences. _

_ Over at Cherry Lane Theater in the Village a “new writing festival”, one of the first funded by Perry Street Production’s ‘new talent’ grant initiatives, saw it’s opening last night - drawing a diverse crowd from Manhattan’s artistic and intellectual set, as well as younger audiences from the local student crowd to curious out-of-towners. Amy Myers, an ambitious local NY actor-producer and her partner Jonathan Jones, both also fellow Juilliard alumni, are the glittering brains behind the initiative. The duo’s festival-format production has been dubbed “vital to the future of New York theater” by Perry Street’s Managing Director who first spotted them in a Sam Shepherd adaptation back in July, which they also co-produced. _

_ Both shows have been lauded by New York’s theater lovers for their fresh approaches, daring writing and creative settings, with Medea being celebrated for the strength of its cast and unconventional approach to the material, and Myers and Jones’ new writing festival eliciting positive responses for their creative settings, ambitious selection of scripts and their inclusivity. However, in addition to the deserved applause the question on everyone’s lips is, are we seeing a modern Broadway fairytale being written? _

_ Making his first non-solo attendance alongside Amy Myers at the Young Writer’s Awards at Carnegie Hall earlier this year, the pair have since been spotted hand in hand at a couple of small arts events, both very low key. Rumours swirled since July that ‘ultra-private’ Adam Driver - Hollywood’s hottest asset, unlikely heartthrob and perennial bachelor had finally been shot by cupid’s arrow in the form of the young, talented, up-and-coming theater producer. _

_ Rumours quickly revealed themselves as fact, however, as each star attended the other’s opening night gala last week - as respective dates - in a feat worthy of New York’s finest cab drivers, ensuring Adam and Amy both made it from red carpet to their respective dressing rooms in time for curtains up. The pair were a glowing picture of bashful new romance at photocalls, with even the notoriously serious Mr Driver cracking a broad smile as he posed for the cameras, holding his girlfriend close. _

_ Speaking to yours truly backstage from the opening of Medea on Thursday night, Mr Driver had nothing but praise for his gifted girlfriend. _

_ “I’m so, so proud of Amy - the colossal amount of work and thought and, just… inventiveness she has brought to her production, the tirelessness she and Jonathan [Jones - her co-producer] have put in to make sure young audiences are getting exposed to the best new writing out there, and giving young scriptwriters an opportunity. It’s… incredible. She’s an exciting person to be around. I’m privileged I get to not only watch her work, but she inspires me, every day. I’m… I can be a pretty, uh, negative pessimist, I’m not an easy guy. But she gets me. Keeps me on my toes. Tells me when to switch off. Keeps me… uh, driven, for want of a better word. Sorry, that’s a terrible joke… anyway. Yeah, we’re… I’m lucky. Really lucky.” _

_ Meanwhile, from her seat in the costume room at Cherry Lane, minutes before stepping out for her first night’s performance, Amy Myers - fresh-faced, determined, sparkling - was all smiles when asked about her budding relationship with the Academy-Award-nominated star. _

_ “I’m lucky we had an overlap in opening dates so I could at least watch their dress rehearsal - Simon’s Medea is quite simply breathtaking. Adam, the whole cast, they’ve worked so hard and it shows. The performances are visceral. Um...It’s been… challenging, with the workload and… we met at a very busy juncture in our lives, but… we’re both workaholics and passionate about what we do so we make a good team. We have a lot of fun, even in all the madness. He’s an incredible partner. I like to think I’ve also helped him stay grounded - it’s a busy year with more on the horizon, but it’s… yeah [a shy smile], we’re really happy. That’s… um, all you’re getting from me on this topic.”  _

_ With Adam set to shoot Noah Baumbach’s new movie Marriage Story next year and Amy reportedly being courted for auditions by a number of directors, it looks like being busy is an understatement but a way of life the talented pair will handle with gusto, and each other’s backs. _

_ If the photos from Medea’s opening gala are anything to go by, are we looking at New York’s hottest new creative arts power couple? _

_ -Tamara _

  
  


_ *** _

You were dabbing the final dusting of powder to your face, adjusting your costume shirt in the floodlit mirror of the cramped, busy dressing room at Cherry Lane. Curtain call was in ten minutes. Jonathan was already in the wings with his scene partners for the opening act. You heard the low buzz of the audience fizz through a speaker in the corner of the room. Behind you various cast members, make-up assistants and a junior stage manager were busy chatting away, putting finishing touches to mascara, lipstick, checking clipboards or running over lines in their heads.

Your phone buzzed on the dressing table in front of you.

Adam.

“BREAK A LEG. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU OUT THERE. X”

It was a Saturday matinée performance. One of only a handful you were doing. Medea didn’t have any matinées scheduled at all, so finally, after not having the opportunity to actually watch any of your full performances yet, Adam was here with the cast members from his show.

Your stomach flipped slightly. You always had simmering stage fright before stepping out onto a stage, a necessary part of your process - you always thought the day the butterflies stopped fluttering before a show would be the day you were no longer meant to do theater. However today they were somewhat more agitated. Last time Adam had seen you on stage was a significantly smaller affair, and you’d been blissfully unaware of his presence.

You smiled at his message, heart beating faster in your chest. You’d not had much time together since the week before opening night, but you’d committed to morning coffee together where you could, messaging each other religiously every evening before your respective shows and sharing a car home as often as you could, arranging pick ups if you weren’t out with your cast members. 

Your quiet moments in bed, just before sleeping, were as much real quality time as you were able to get between shows. Exchanging your days’ thoughts and feelings in fleeting whispers, heads turned to each other, feet and knees touching, Adam’s strong arm pressed along your back and his lips pressed to your palm.

The weeks ahead were going to be gruelling, but were also exhilarating. You felt a new lease of life, a new energy in you you had thought lost forever. The rumble of audience noise filtering through the changing room speaker fuelled your fire. 

Out in the stalls, Adam, his cast mates and director Simon Stone, as well as Hannah, were all sat in the front row. A gaggle of theater goers had already snapped Adam as he entered the auditorium, murmurs bristling through the crowd. He’d walked in head down, his hair almost to his shoulders now, broad frame clad in his favourite brown leather jacket, casual in black jeans and a navy wool sweater, clutching a bottle of seltzer and shades and doing his best to fold himself as discreetly as possible into a seat in the front row causing a small flurry of Twitter excitement, with blurry pictures of his head accompanied by a raft of googly eye and heart emojis.

“#AdamDriver stanning his new GF by sitting in the front row for her show. LOVE THIS! 💗💗”

“OMG can’t believe KING DRIVER is here. So romantic! Front row in support of Amy!”

“The A-list are out in full force tonight, spotted #AdamDriver and #SimonStone in the front row!”

You, of course, had no idea of this… But the hungry gossip mags and entertainment blogs were already aflame…

The speaker in the corner buzzed. Curtain call in 2 minutes. 

You got up and headed to the wings, ready to step out. 

***

The standing ovation made your palms sweat. Jonathan clutched your hand so tight as you bowed you thought he might break your fingers as you both beamed out at the audience, the lights, the noise, the adrenalin making your head swim. 

This was the fourth night in a row that the audience had risen to their feet, thunderous applause ringing out in the small auditorium. Despite the glare of the stage lights as you dropped your head to bow one last time, your eyes made out Adam at the front, slightly to your left. He only had eyes for you, his smile wide and absolutely glowing. He was standing tall and proud, his Playbill tucked under one arm, clapping fervently as his cast mate whispered something to him, causing him to nod. He kept his eyes locked on you as you took in a deep breath, surveying the room, leaning in to Jonathan to give his side a squeeze. Eventually the house lights started to fade up, prompting the audience to start moving to the exit doors. Adam gestured at you briefly as he made to duck quickly out a side exit - he would meet you backstage shortly. 

“We’ve made it, Amy.” Jonathan whispered at you as you both turned to make your way off the stage. You squeezed his hand, having not let go of it at all, hanging on out of the sheer thrill, so grateful to him in that moment for being your partner in crime. All the hard work and sleepless nights paying off.

“Holy shit, yes! I’m still pinching myself if this is real. We are  _ definitely _ going out to toast after tonight’s show.” you grinned.

You caught up with the rest of the cast backstage, everyone buzzing, the noise rumbling through the changing rooms, the backstage foyer and small catering mess. 

You hurried into the changing room to grab a towel and gel from your bag, wanting to take a quick shower and change before meeting Adam in the green room. You still had another performance in two hours. When you got to your make-up table to grab the bag, however, it was covered by a huge bouquet of flowers. Two dozen red roses and a small handwritten card, a familiar elegant script:

“Amy, 

Congratulations on your first of many, many shows to come. I’m so proud of you and so overwhelmed by you. You keep blowing me away. 

Love, Adam, x”

Your castmates were already swooping around you, swatting you on the shoulder.

“Girl, he has got it SO bad.”

“I never figured him for such a die hard romantic!”

“What a gentleman! Oh, and he got Jonathan a bottle of rare Scotch.”

“He did?” You called out to Jonathan who was in the adjacent room. He popped his head round the door, a demake-up wipe in his hand and flashed you a ridiculous smile.

“A fucking 30-year old Glenlivet Single Malt!” he exclaimed. “Seriously, can I date him too?”

You laughed. Your heart was hammering. 

You showered as quickly as you could, before dashing to the green room down the backstage corridor.

***

Adam was stood by the catering table, helping himself to a coffee from the large metal urn that sat between a tray of sandwiches and wraps and a couple of large fruit bowls. Hannah was also there, chatting on her bluetooth speaker as usual, a notebook on her knee, Medea director Simon Stone was chatting to a couple of other people sat on the lounger chairs waiting for their friends in the cast to come and meet them.

When you stepped into the room, Adam barely restrained himself. You stood for a moment by the door, nodding an acknowledgement to Hannah, then the other people in the room, none of whom you’d formally met and were about to introduce yourself when Adam strode over to you, tiny paper cup of coffee in his hand, a huge dorky grin on his face causing his cheeks to dimple. He reached out to take hold of your arm, pulling you close to him and leaning down to press a heated kiss to your lips, knocking you for six with his uncharacteristically public display of affection, the possessiveness in his embrace making your cheeks flush bright red.

When he pulled away, his eyes searched yours, biting at his bottom lip, the hand on your arm squeezing gently as he whispered,

“You were incredible. I love you so fucking much, it was so, so brilliant.” 

“Amy!” Hannah was up and pulling her bluetooth earpiece out as she came over and pulled you into a huge bear hug, “Sweetheart you were fantastic! Your whole cast - you’ve done such an amazing job.”

You felt a presence behind you and turned, Adam introduced you to Simon - a director you’d admired for so many years, who warmly took your hands in his to shake them, full of compliments. The rest of his cast joined you, all of them just fuelling your already high adrenaline rush.

Eventually the little room filled with other castmates, Jonathan snuck in to thank Adam and meet another friend of his. You’d never buzzed so much in your life.

You didn’t have long before needing to get back to pre-show warm-ups, but Adam pulled you out into the service corridor for a moment before leaving you to get back to the show prep.

The corridor was quiet, leading to a fire exit and only really used by the few smokers in the crew and the costume delivery team. You leaned against the cool brick wall, taking a breath as your heart rate finally slowed.

“I’m still shaking” you laughed softly in the dim light of the hallway. “What a rush.”

“Seriously, Amy, you and Jonathan have pulled off such a great production. You are so fucking talented.”

“Thank you. I’m… yeah, we’re pretty buzzing right now, I’m. I’m proud of this moment. I… I wish my Dad could have seen it.”

Adam stood tall above you, resting his hands around your waist, a lock of his hair falling across his forehead. He stroked your cheek, caressing the tip of his thumb across your lips as he pulled your hips closer to his.

“He would be so proud of you. You know that. I’d have loved to watch it with him, see his reaction.”

“He’d have loved you…”

You reached up to tuck the loose curl back behind Adam’s ear before pulling at the lapel of his jacket collar and pulling him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bending down to slide a knee between your legs and pull you against the warmth of his body, protective and powerful. His mouth was soft, lips teasing at yours, nipping gently at your bottom lip before searching for your tongue with his. He deepened the kiss, moaning softly as you ran your fingers through his hair and gripped the back of his neck. 

You both giggled in muffled tones, knowing where this would lead if you went any further.

He broke apart from you, kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, stroking a thumb over the skin of your hip.

“Um… I should let you go soon…” he smiled.

“Yeah… back on in an hour…”

“Um… so anyway. Speaking of parents... uh…”

“Yes?”

“I actually… well I spoke to my mom the other day, as you know, and anyway… she, uh… wants to come and visit - for Christmas. I mean, not because we usually do any traditional thing or whatever, we’re not big Christmas people… that ship sailed a long time ago, but since we both get a break for a couple of days… I… she wanted to come and meet you. And… I guess it’s pretty overdue.”

You beamed at him. You knew he had a fractious relationship with his family, being only slightly closer to his mom, but that meant little. They rarely spoke and you knew he kept family gatherings to a bare minimum - they weren’t contentious, they just had drifted. He had little in common with them, with that moment from his past. The divorce had stung him deeply and his parents didn’t understand his lifestyle, his work, his values. 

“I’d love to meet her. I know it’s a… big thing. Not, not like I’m some high school crush, I mean… emotionally. For you, on top of the show and everything, to deal with. Are you sure you want to? We can wait til the run is finished?”

“No, it’s ok. It’s just a couple of days and I don’t want her to feel alone during the holidays, or whatever. I haven’t seen her since February, she came to the Oscars with me, but… it’s not like we really had time to hang out much around that, I think she was just a bit overwhelmed. If you’re happy, I’ll confirm.”

“Of course. In fact… ha, great minds, huh? I spoke to my mom too. She’s coming to NYC in January, so I’ll sort out maybe her staying a couple of nights with us?”

“Of course. Yes.” He kissed you again, squeezing your waist gently. “Are you going out later?”

“Yeah, I think we’re all in the mood to celebrate the first week run. I’ll probably stay for a couple. We’ll be at Bar Centrale if you want to join us after your show, bring the cast?”

“I’ll skip, but you should definitely celebrate, I’m pretty exhausted. You need to be with your team, but... I’ll see you when you get home.” He leaned in for a less than chaste kiss, sliding a warm, calloused hand up inside your t-shirt to stroke his thumb across your nipple as his jean-clad hips pressed into your belly. “If I’m sleeping when you get in, wake me…I mean it.”

“Mmmm… ok.” You giggled, leaning into him, your breath hitching as he teased you with his tongue. “I love you. You know that right?”

He pulled away and straightened up, kissing the palm of your hand. 

“I do. I love you too. Now go and kick ass.” 

***

Of course Jonathan had hijacked the microphone at Bar Centrale with a fellow cast member sat at the old upright piano by the bar, the pair of them were taking requests from an increasingly raucous Saturday night Broadway crowd. You decided to call it a night after your second drink. You were tired, body racked from a mix of intense adrenaline and bone-deep exhaustion from the first week. You also pictured Adam, sprawled and naked in your bed, hair tousled in sleep, muscled arms splayed behind his head and felt suddenly eager to be on your way. 

You deposited your empty wine glass on the bar counter, grabbing your leather jacket from the bar hook and hugged a couple of friends goodbye, waving at Jonathan who was midway through some track from In The Heights and completely distracted.

The weather was relatively balmy for November and after the intensity of backstage and the heat inside the crammed bar you felt like walking a couple of blocks before hailing cab. 

You strolled down 8th Avenue, past the tacky souvenir stores, a Staples, stopped at a hot dog stand to grab one, suddenly ravenous as you hadn’t really had any dinner. As you waited for the vendor, a young couple - who’d clearly just come from dinner after a show, stopped for a moment by your shoulder. They were clearly watching you and not making a great show of hiding it. You turned your head, wondering if they were looking for directions.

The woman smiled at you, your age, looking shy but smiling.

“Hi. Um… sorry, this probably weird. Are you… uh, Amy Myers? The actress?” Her boyfriend looked hopeful, but stood back, clearly embarrassed in case this was all a case of mistaken identity.

You stood stock still for a moment, the vendor holding out your chilli dog impatiently. 

“Er… yeah. That’s me.” You shook out of your moment of disbelief then smiled. The woman relaxed and immediately dug into her handbag, searching for something. The boyfriend smiled too. Reaching for his phone.

“Oh wow. Um… we saw your show a couple of nights ago. Um… it was amazing. Um, so cool. Would you, uh, do you mind could you sign my Playbill? I think I have it in my bag!”

You stared at her, the chilli dog in your hand starting to drip sauce on the pavement.  _ Holy shit, this was really happening?  _

“Uh, sure. Of course. I’d be happy to. Um, that’s so kind about the show, I’m really happy you enjoyed it.”

The boyfriend reached out a hand to shake yours, “Hi, Brad - um this is my fiancee Vanessa. We’re both theater students, ah, we went with our study group to watch the show. It’s really inspiring.”

“Oh! Amazing, thank you.”

Vanessa found her Playbill and a pen. You awkwardly propped your hot dog on the small metal counter jutting out from the vendor’s stand and took the pen and Playbill. You scrawled your name over the cover, hand shaking slightly in shock still.

When you looked up, Brad was ready to take a photo with his phone. 

_ This is so fucking weird _ , you thought. 

You posed, awkardly, with Vanessa. Then picked up your hotdog, waved at them and went on your way - it was time to find a taxi.

Only when you were finally sat in the back, greedily biting into the spicy dog, did you realise neither of the two had even mentioned Adam, or asked, or hinted. They admired you, just you, your talent, your show. If that didn’t give you the biggest thrill, but also the greatest reassurance from your ever-present, if faint, anxiety.

***

Moose was sprawled in front of the kitchen counter when you came in, his T-Rex chew toy caught between his front paws, little dog snores ruffling his jowls as he slept. The apartment was in darkness, just slivers of faint street light glinting in through the shutters of the front windows.

You dumped your bag on the floor and flung your jacket over the side of the sofa in the lounge, kicking off your boots before padding upstairs. 

Adam was fast asleep on his back in your shared bed, the duvet cover bunched low around his waist. The carved marble of his chest shone pale in the moonlight, his thick, muscular arms tucked behind his head under the pillow, the dense curls of his hair framing his face, all soft in sleep, lips full and parted. The thick black tuft of his pubic hair peaked out from under the cotton sheets, shadows playing over the V of his hips, the curves of his abdomen. He was beautiful and you wanted him, badly. 

You tiptoed into the bathroom, closing the door as quietly as you could and quickly brushed your teeth and took a quick shower with just the mirror light on, washing away the stress of the day. When you emerged, naked, you left the door slightly ajar, allowing a small glow of light into the room, enough to be able to see Adam properly when you kissed him. 

You walked over to his side of the bed and leaned down, grazing his lips with yours as your hair fell across his shoulders and chest. You sat down on the edge of the bed and brought your face close to his, breathing in his warm skin, a faint smell of mouthwash on his breath and the scent of lime and coconut from his shampoo. You pressed your lips to his more firmly this time, and slid your hand down under the covers to curl your fingers around his cock, teasing him gently, stroking around his balls, the smooth patch of skin at the apex of his thighs. 

He stirred, mumbling something in his sleep, eyelids flickering, then they opened. He chewed his lips briefly and blinked his eyes a couple of times before breaking into a soft, dopey half-asleep smile, his hand reaching from under the pillow to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Oh, hello.” He smiled softly, in the dim golden light. His nose brushed yours. 

“Hey you.” You kissed his cheeks and the end of his nose, fingers trailing along the length of his cock, feeling it slowly twitch against his thigh. “You said to wake you when I got in…”

“Mmm… I did. I… um… hi. That feels good.” He closed his eyes and hummed appreciatively, feeling you coax his growing erection with your fingers, your lips so close to his. He pulled you down for a kiss, his other arm curling around you, warm and strong and solid, pressing you against the hard planes of his chest as his tongue teased against your lips. 

He parted his legs slightly, giving your hand more access, his cock getting harder as you stroked him, leaning in to bring your knees up onto the bed. His hand on your back slid down to cup your ass cheek, his other hand cupping your face, thumb grazing at the dip of your neck as he kissed you hungrily, his tongue searching for yours, hot and sweet. He pulled you to him properly, rolling you from your seated position over onto your side of the bed and curling his whole body over yours, twisting the sheet and duvet as he finally felt fully awake and his desire for you took over. 

“Hmm, you taste of wine, yummy, mmmm. So beautiful…” He pressed his erection against your hip as he trailed hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and your neck, biting softly at your shoulder. You gripped his thigh, digging into the flesh and rubbing your body against him, relishing the feel of him, hard and ready, his body burning hot, the width of his hand spanning right around your waist as you wrapped your leg around his. 

“I signed my first autograph today.” You whispered into his ear as you reached down between you with your free hand and wrapped it around his length again, stroking him in a lazy rhythm as you felt his breath hitch. He was nibbling at your earlobe then stopped.

“Oh yeah?” You felt him grin into your neck, the smile on his lips against your skin. 

“Yeah. They wanted my photo and everything.”

“They wanted a photo of my shit hot girlfriend?”

“Yup.”

He groaned as you gripped him harder, thumb swiping across the head of his cock, slick with pre-cum. He bit at your bottom lip, voice muffled as he half kissed you, half mumbled.

“Don’t fucking blame them. She’s hot. Fucking… super talented.”

“Yeah, just remember that.” You giggled.

Adam broke away from kissing you to raise himself above you, hair falling over his eyes, face flushed as he smiled at you. You raised your hips off the bed and pushed up, guiding him between your legs, aching for him. He pushed into you, a soft groan escaping his lips as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist. He played with the hair fanned out around your face, twisting it between his fingers, not moving as you both remained there for a moment feeling each other’s breaths, the rise and fall of your chests. His eyes watched yours, somehow serious, ardent and playful all at the same time, pupils blown. 

“Was it weird?” He asked, softly.

“What?”

“The autograph thing.”

He started to move gently inside you, adjusting his hips to be more comfortable. You slipped a pillow under your bum to lift it, biting your lip at the new angle, the feel of him filling you so delicious, your clit brushing against his lower belly as he rocked his hips.

“Yeah, a little bit. It… caught me by surprise. I was literally on the sidewalk and not paying attention.”

He moved again, pressing a slow, languid kiss to your lips, tongue licking into your mouth, a whimper of pleasure as he thrust into you, fingers trailing across your breast to tease at your nipple.

“How could anyone not pay you attention?” He whispered as he moved, chuckling softly at his own rhetorical question, as if someone not noticing you was the craziest thing in the world.

  
  


“I was in the middle of paying for a chilli dog.” You suddenly said, stifling a giggle even as he thrust harder, the angle hitting you in the most sensitive spot, causing your pussy to clench around him. 

You felt him laugh into your neck as he thrust again, teeth leaving marks across your shoulder as he increased the pace. HIs body shuddered against yours and you giggled more loudly, curling your fingers into his hair.

“Seriously? You were trying to buy a hotdog and someone stopped you?” He grinned at you suddenly, not letting up from the delicious rhythm of his thrusts.

“I swear to god. I nearly dropped it. The vendor guy was so pissed I was holding other people up. I mean… I didn’t quite imagine my first, uh, star moment would be stood at the fucking Sabra Dogs stand on 8th Ave, in my sweatpants.”

You stared up at him and he looked back at you, both flushed, faces glowing, dewy with sex sweat, his cock buried deep inside you, skin against skin. He suddenly burst into a massive snort, his whole body shaking as he let out a belly laugh, his cheeks dimpling. 

He collapsed against you as you started to laugh with him, clutching at him as he held you close, both of you close to tears from laughing, his whole face lit up with a smile. He was still inside you minutes later when your giggles finally subsided, he wiped a tear from along your nose and kissed the corner of your lips, pushing into you again, reminding you of his desire, his cock, groaning at the feel of you tight, warm, wet around him.

You took his face in your hands and kissed him, the laughter gone now, replaced with an intense need. You slid your hand between you, wanting to feel his cock pump into you, aching to touch yourself, your clit swollen and needy. He watched as your fingers teased your swollen bud, the lips of your sex slick and pink. He bit his lip and crushed his lips to yours, almost biting. 

You pulled his hair, gripping the locks at the nape of his neck, exposing his Adam’s apple which you licked, teasing the soft skin of his neck with your teeth.

“I got such a rush seeing your face in the audience today. I wanted to fuck you as soon as I saw you in the Green Room.”

“I wanted to fuck you the whole time you were on stage. You felt like fucking a live wire the whole way through. You were so strong up there. So bad-ass.”

He pressed his full weight into you, guiding one leg to hook it over his shoulder to bury deeper inside you. He let out a deep moan as he fucked into you, mouth latching onto your breast, teeth grazing your nipple, drawing a cry from your lips. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He pumped harder into you, lifting your hips clean off the bed, the angle affording him a better sight line as you stroked your clit, watching his cock slide in and out of your cunt, your other hand reaching down to cup his balls, causing him to grind his teeth and moan. 

“I want to tease you” you said, trailing a finger between his ass cheeks, remembering how you’d made him come so hard at the Lakehouse. 

He grabbed your wrist with force and brought your fingers to his mouth, as he continued thrusting into you faster, harder. Not leaving your eyes, he took your fingers between his lips, sucking them,, coating them with his spit before letting go. His eyes giving you permission.

You slid your hand back between his legs, under your ass and slowly stroked his perineum, pressing gently up into it. Adam bucked at the intensity, a short, hoarse cry as he tensed from the sensation. Then he relaxed again, widening his kneeled stance on the bed to give your better access, his thumb circling your clit, taking over from you to let you concentrate. 

You were close as you slowly worked the tip of your finger into his ass, slowly, gently, but firmly - watching his body arch back into the feeling, his palm grip at your thigh. 

“Fuck Amy, that feels amazing. I won’t last…”

“Come with me. I want to watch you fall apart…”

“I… Oh, SHIT!”

You slipped your finger into his ass to the middle knuckle, his cock filling you so deep, the tortuous rhythm of his fingers against your clit causing a swooping flutter in the pit of your belly, your pussy clenching around him as you felt him close to orgasm. 

He shuddered, knees trembling, the muscles in his thighs taut, tensing, barrel-chest heaving as you felt him clench around you and his breath getting shorter. 

“I’m gonna come, Amy. So… fucking… holy...shit” He thrust into you once, twice, then came so hard, his whole body convulsing as he spilled inside you. Knowing you were close he kept up his pace, both your arms wrapped around him now as you clutched at him, need all of him. His thumb grazed across your clit as he kissed you, sloppy and messy, swallowing your cries as your orgasm hit, cunt squeezing around him in ripples as he felt you whimper in his arms.

_ Fuck he loved you _ , like he could burst from the feeling.

He kissed the cries of pleasure from your lips, then cradled you as you both came down from the high, bodies sweaty and bruised, cheeks red and eyes shining. 

Eventually you rolled both of you back to his side of the bed and lay your head across Adam’s chest, stretching your legs out to find the cold patch on the bed with your toes, not willing to let go of Adam, but needed some respite from the intense body heat. His hand fisted into your hair, playing with the strands, twisting them in his fingers as his chest rose and fell, lips pressing kisses to the top of your head. He manoeuvered his outstretched foot to find then tug the crumpled bed sheet up from the end of the bed so he could reach it with his free hand, wiping the stickiness between his thighs on the cotton, then pulling it up further to pat at the damp skin between your breasts, then gently patting between your legs. You chuckled softly at his tenderness. 

“Too lazy to shower…” he mumbled.

“I don’t care… these sheets need a wash anyway…”

“...Plus...I probably want to do that again before morning…” the words barely came out as he started drifting.

“You say that, but I give you three minutes and you’ll be snoring…”

“...”

“Adam?”

You nudged him, stifling a yawn yourself as you relaxed into slumber.

“...”

“Adam?”

You pressed your nose gently against his rib. Softly, you heard the faintest rumble of a snore from his lips.

“Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz”

You grinned, blissfully happy, and promptly fell asleep yourself.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know Adam, or anything about his life / friends / thoughts. This is pure fiction for fun.


	22. Big Big Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets of our favourite duo's relationship...  
> ***  
> In which Amy gets her big break.  
> ***  
> In which the shower gets a revisiting.  
> ***  
> In which Mom comes calling.  
> ***  
> Usual disclaimers, I don't know or have anything to do with Adam. People and places mentioned are real.

The call came in at ten in the evening, Sunday in mid-November. Your show had closed the night before, ending with a wrap party that had gone on into the small hours. You’d been asleep until midday, then spent the afternoon just relaxing. Adam’s show had Sunday night performances so you were at home alone that evening with Moose in your sweatpants and hoodie, recuperating from the final sell-out week with tea and a good book. 

The number flashed up as Martha - Metropolis. Her private cell. Martha was the agent at Metropolis Talent that Hannah had recommended that you had signed with for a year with the inheritance money your father had left you. 

One morning a week earlier, before heading to Cherry Lane for that evening’s performance of your show, you’d gone to a warehouse down in Industry City for an audition, belly fuelled by nerves and caffeine. All your old memories of audition fails and shitty bit parts came rearing to the fore, but you pushed them down - that was the past. Now you had a new surge of confidence in you, a power that was growing daily. You’d gone in head held high and given it your all.

It was a small film role, but not insignificant. You were reading for a part in a five-hander, all-female ensemble cast, a political thriller set during the Clinton years. You didn’t know much about the project as it was early days but you’d heard the name Emily Blunt attached to the cast and David O Russell was directing - which was enough to convince you to agree off the bat. 

The first audition had gone well. They’d called you back for a second reading, different scenes. Then in the rush of the show, and not wanting to get your hopes up, you’d buried the whole thought of it…

You answered the phone.

“Amy? Martha here. I have good news. I spoke to David and Angie, the casting director. They want you for the part.”

You did a deep intake of breath. Pregnant pause. Then…

“...They do?”

“Yup. You got it. Congratulations! It’s a great starter role, Amy. David’s fantastic and, I can confirm Emily is signing contracts next week and Rosario Dawson is on board too.”

“No! Really? Holy shit… sorry… I’m sorry, this is embarrassing, I’m way over excited! It’s just… WOW!”

“Haha, it’s totally fine, this is your first feature, are you kidding? You’ll get supporting credits and I think he’s aiming for a Venice film festival entry to debut so this is really good for you. You should be proud, it’s gonna be a great cast. Listen, come in next week and we can go through your contract before we send it to David’s lawyers, then we’ll need to talk about the production schedule, but we can sort all of that next week, ok?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll check the diary and message you. I'm much freer next week now anyway so I’ll have more time! Let’s get it done before the holiday break… Um, wow. Just fucking wow. I’m kinda shocked right now! hahaha!”

“We’re rooting for you here! Apparently Angie already knew on the first reading, she just wanted to put you through your paces with a second read to have more material to show David because she thought your range was great! 

“Holy crap. Amazing.”

“Yeah!!! I know it’s late, but… go pop a Champagne or something ok? I’ll see you next week. Oh, and Amy?”

“Yeah?”

“Deep breath ok, you’ve got this. And congratulations again. This is why we wanted you on our books, you’re going to be great!”

You hung up and slumped back in the sofa, all the breath you’d been holding in during the call rushing out in a wild whoosh, your fingertips tingling and the hairs on your arms raised with goosebumps. You checked your watch. Adam wouldn’t be home for another hour or so. You needed to move. To do something with the restless energy coursing through your veins suddenly. 

You threw your book down and grabbed your coat, sneakers and Moose’s leash and took him for a long jog round the neighbourhood.

***

Adam got home ten minutes after you, you were still in your coat, toweling Moose dry in the kitchen as it had been raining outside. He was surprised you were still up and even more surprised when you catapulted yourself at him before he’d barely made it through the door.

“Hey! Ooof… hey…” he giggled, wrapping his arms around you and pushing your coat hood back off your head. “What’s going on?” he grinned, noting the gleam in your eyes.

You pulled him in for a kiss, the curled wisps of his hair damp under the hood of his Navy parka jacket, his stubble tickling your chin as he parted his lips under your kiss, tasting you with his tongue. 

“Mmm… wait… let me take...mmmm.. My jacket off.” He was still chuckling as you both shucked off your coats. Moose could also sense the excitement and was skittering about, his paws caught in the wet towel on the floor, tail wagging against Adam’s legs. 

Adam stood back, hung his jacket on the hanger by the door and toed off his Nike’s as you did the same, grinning at him. He ran a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear and smoothing down his sweater. Then he wrapped his arms around you again, all soft and cosy in your sweats. 

“Ok, what’s the news… you’re all jumpy!” he smiled softly down at you, his cheeks dimpling.

“I got the part.”

“What? Wait, the O’Russell movie?”

“Yeah. I got it. Supporting credits.”

“Holy shit, Amy. That’s awesome!” His smile broke into a huge grin, eyes beaming at you. “Did you just find out?”

“Yeah, Martha called earlier. I was so nervous afterwards I had to go and do something, that’s why I took Moose out, I needed to run or something.”

Adam lifted you off the ground in a bear hug, planting a firm kiss on your lips before spinning you round. “Oh man! This is so good for you! I’m so fucking happy!”

“Me too! I can’t even believe it. Rosario Dawson and Emily Blunt are signing on too, I’ll literally be billed under their names. I mean, what the fuck? I thought maybe I’d get a bit part or something. But I’m in the main ensemble.”

“Fuck! I knew it! Amy… This is… are you happy?” He popped you down on the kitchen counter, moving between your legs and brushing your hair back with his hand before curling his palm around your cheek, stroking your jaw with his thumb, eyes searching yours. You fisted your hands in his sweater, sliding fingers under to trace the soft warm skin of his belly.

“I’m not even sure it’s hit me. But yeah. I’m … really fucking happy! I’ll go and work through the contract next week with Martha. I...might need a second pair of eyes, if you could go through it with me? I mean, I trust her obviously, but you know… it will affect both of us, the schedule and stuff. And… hey, you’ve done this way more than me, couldn’t hurt to get your thoughts.”

Adam puffed up a bit, a glint of pride in his face. You never asked him for stuff like this, and he knew why. 

“Are you sure? You know I would always help and support, right? But… I know you don’t need me…”

“Adam, come on, it would be stupid for me not to get your help with this. I know when to stand my ground but I also know when to ask for help. This is a learning curve for me and since we’re together it only makes sense. I want to make sure you know what the deal is, you know. Check I’ve got everything there that I should and honestly, I want an opinion that isn’t an agent’s if you know what I mean.”   
  


“Of course. You know I’m here for you. Actually, now you say that, we should look at my shoot schedule with Noah in the next couple of weeks, work out dates and travel and stuff. So I can get breaks to see you, or you to visit. The shoots might overlap too.” 

“Yes. We should…” you trailed off.

Adam had tilted your chin up and was looking at you intently, eyes warm as your fingers grazed along his lower belly, his skin hot and soft like velvet. He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to yours, all plush and sweet, the faint tang of mint from his chewing gum and the chapstick he applied obsessively during winter. His hands tightened around your waist as he kissed you, thumbs slipping under the hem of your hoodie, tracing circles along your ribs. He licked at your lower lip, seeking permission, his tongue finding yours, teasing and hungry.

You shivered as he kissed you, a combination of excitement, nerves, Adam’s lips but also a chill through your bones. It had been barely 35°F outside, and your hair was still damp as Adam ran his large hand through it. 

“You’re cold.” He noted, kissing along your jaw. You shivered again. “Hey, all ok?”

“Yeah. I should dry my hair, probably. It’s freezing out there.” you mumbled, reaching up to trace the shell of his ear, playing with his equally damp tendrils of hair.

He rubbed his hands along your arms, trying to warm you. 

“Or… you know. We could take a hot shower?” His voice lowered, breathy into your ear.

“Or, we could do that…” you smiled back and plopped off the counter without hesitating, his arms chasing to catch around your waist as you started walking to the downstairs bathroom. 

***

He helped you strip out of your hoodie once the bathroom door was closed, a disgruntled Moose left outside to go look for his chew toys. You slipped out of your sweatpants eagerly as Adam pulled his sweater and cotton t-shirt off, reaching over into the shower stall to turn the water on, the roped muscles of his back flexing as he did, his low slung dark jeans exposing the smooth divots of his lower back, the peachy curve of his ass, the denim stretched tight across his thick thighs. You unhooked your bra and walked over to where he stood testing the water heat with an outstretched hand. You curled your arms around his waist, pressing your breasts against his spine, sliding one hand down over the front of his jeans and feeling him aroused against your palm. 

“Oh, hello.” He said, turning his head back and cocking an eyebrow at you, before covering your hand with his huge one, giving a little squeeze as you started to stroke him through the fabric. 

“Mmmm…hello...” 

He fumbled with his now wet hand and the one covering yours to undo his fly buttons and you turned to face him as he slipped the jeans and his black briefs off and kicked them across the floor of the bathroom. He immediately grabbed you, strong arms pulling you close, pressing his thick, swollen cock against your belly, leaning over you, knees bent to better meet your mouth, his body a wall of heat against yours, his chest so big and warm. 

Adam’s insane workout schedule of the last couple of months had made him so broad and towering you felt like a bird in his arms, revelling in his strength. His fingers skimmed across your neck and he cupped your jaw, pressing a slow, heated kiss to your mouth, a low purr humming from his throat as he suckled on your lower lip.

You shuffled awkwardly into the shower stall, where Adam pinned you up against the cool tiles, hands gripping your waist, kissing you hard. His tongue sank into the sweet warmth of your mouth, moaning as your hand found his cock, iron hard and straining against your tummy, and you slowly started to stroke him. The warm spray beat across his shoulders and ran down over his pectorals, the dip of his belly button, the deep v of his hips, his hair wet and curling along his jaw as he broke his kiss to give you a wolfish, hungry look. 

He looked down to where your small hand curled around his erection, pumping him slowly and he chewed at his bottom lip, eyes growing darker as he watched the rivulets of water run over the pale swell of your breasts, nipples pink and swollen, down to the dark, wet thatch of hair between your legs.

“Still cold?” he panted. 

“No. Very hot now, actually.” You winked at him, coyly.

“I fucking agree.” He mumbled before pressing into you harder, hands sliding across your wet, slippery skin, pushing his cock into your hand, aroused and desperate for relief as you stroked harder and teased the head of his cock with a swirl of your thumb. His hand cupped the back of your neck, gripping tight, giving you goosebumps and making you wet as he moaned into your mouth, openly and loudly. You rubbed yourself against his thigh, skin tingling then felt his fingers slide between your legs, his long, thick index teasing between your folds, slicking up before sliding into you, his whole body shuddering as he felt how soaked you were. He pumped you with one, then two fingers, the knuckle of his thumb grazing your clit as he crooked his digits upwards, teasing your most sensitive spot. You clung to him, hands fisted tight in his hair, teeth buried in the soft skin of shoulder muscle as he brought you to orgasm so fast your knees almost buckled in surprise. He hummed with satisfaction into your hair as you clenched around his fingers, the pad of his thumb still caressing your overly sensitive clit, causing little aftershocks to ripple through your body, legs limp, your body soft in his arms. 

He kissed you again, slowly, sweetly this time, his tongue gentle like a prayer, lips peachy soft as he slid his fingers out of you and curled them around the flesh of your thigh.

  
  


You lifted your leg to wrap it around his thigh, leaning your hips into his, rubbing against the hot length of his cock - he barely needed encouragement. He slid his hand along your thigh to steady your leg, lifting it higher and bending his knees slightly to press the tip of his cock between your legs, teasing it against your lips. Mouth not leaving yours, he sheathed himself fully inside you, hand gripping your leg tight to keep your steady, thrusting inside you, twisting his fingers into your hair as he started to move.

“So good…” He whispered softly as you tasted him, nibbled at the soft flesh of his lips, held him so tight your breathing hitched. You wanted him as deep inside you as possible, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, his arms, his lips, his tender power. “Love you so much...” his voice trailed off as he moved inside you, finding a sweet, rocking rhythm that filled you deeply, cradling you against his chest. He lifted you to let you lock both legs around his waist, his arms holding you up against the wet tiles, your heated breaths mingling with the steam of the shower, his hips grinding as he fucked you, deep but slow. He was so hard it almost hurt, the feel of your heavy, soft breasts rubbing against his chest was agonisingly good, his nipples sensitive under the hot spray, the dig of your nails into the tender flesh of his neck a mix of pain and pleasure that heightened the feel of your tight heat pulsing around his cock. 

He pulled away from kissing you to watch where your bodies met as he rocked into you, breathing hard, lips parted and tender. His eyes met yours, wild, dark, almost reverent as he pumped harder and faster, gripping your skin so hard you were sure to have bruises. He was close. You felt him tense, loved watching and feeling for the signs his body made as he neared release, his cheeks flushing and mouth working hard as he clenched his jaw, the first lick of heat of his orgasm rumbling through him. You held his face as he closed his eyes and thrust deep, letting out a stifled cry as he came, so hard, holding you so tight as he spilled into you, lips burning a trail against your jaw. 

He clung to you under the spray, thighs shaking as he caught his breath, his fingers playing in your hair and teeth nibbling at the lobe of your ear, his cock still twitching inside you. You reached behind him to find the shampoo in the caddy and slowly started to lather a gloop of it into Adam’s hair as he smiled against your skin, the suds dripping down over his broad shoulders, his chest, his dark nipples. Eventually he softened and pulled out of you, fingers reaching between your legs to stroke you tenderly, a chaste caress rather than an overture to anything more, hand eventually sliding around to cup the peach of your ass and pull your hips to him as you washed his hair. 

Adam’s eyes looked tired as he gazed down at you, slightly crinkled in a soft smile, dark circles under the hazel, gold-flecked orbs. You studied him in silence for a bit as he hummed contentedly, your nimble fingers working through his damp locks. You stroked a thumb across his cheek.

“You look tired.” You smiled up at him. “Two more weeks to go, how are you feeling?” 

His return to the theater had fuelled so much passion in Adam, you’d seen the change in his demeanour, his enthusiasm for returning to his stage craft, but it had also drained him. Given his all-in approach, the almost tortuous levels of work he put into the preparation, the obsessive working out and character study, he’d worked himself ragged. The show closed in two weeks and you were sure if it was to run any longer, he’d eventually get into a dark rut of total depletion.

“I’m exhausted. But, you know. That’s good. I like feeling drained, like I’ve really worked hard, it’s satisfying. But… yeah… I know it’s not healthy, maybe. You know… Uh, I’d forget to fucking function like a normal adult by this point, if you weren’t around, probably.”

He looked serious for a moment, chewing his cheeks, the nervous tic flashing under his right eye, Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he gave you a sheepish, crooked smile and leaned his head back under the water jet to wash out the shampoo. He pulled you close and tucked your head under his chin so you got some of the warmth of the spray too. 

“You keep me sane”. He whispered, mostly to himself. 

“Let’s take a holiday after this. Hmm?” You whispered, his wet skin smelling of limes and coconut. 

“Yes.” his chest rumbled. “Please. Somewhere hot. Somewhere... quiet.”

“How about after your Mom’s visited, we go and do Christmas somewhere? I’ve never  _ not _ done Christmas in the cold, with the tree and all the trimmings, but… this year’s been… well, different. I want us to just have some time alone. Before we both start shooting. Would you be up for that?”

Adam looked down and wiped your hair from your face, pressing a wet kiss to your temple, hands curled around your waist. A pause.

“You know I’m really not that into Christmas anyway. I don’t really care, I mean… I guess it’s a cliché ‘child of divorce’ thing, or whatever. I always find it kinda fraught so… I’m very ok with going away. Really ok, in fact. Yeah. If you’re sure you don’t want the whole thing? You know, the turkey or baked ham or whatever the fuck?”

You chuckled. 

“I want YOU. I want to be somewhere I can read, relax and just be with you, no distractions. And Moose. And you know what? I can still cook a turkey and put up a tree wherever we end up. And you can still get grumpy over it no matter where we go. So we both win.”

He kissed you with a chuckle, lips a bit soapy, then he turned and dunked you under the spray and you let out a shriek before swatting him, curling back against his chest in a tight embrace.

“Let’s do it.” he said, whispering down at you. “How about Hawaii? It’s hot. They have turtles… They do really good pineapple cocktails. You can... put up twenty fucking trees, I don’t care, as long as I get to spend at least an entire week naked with you, no interruptions, lots of fooling around. And I can play with Moose, then you can do whatever Christmas shit you want.”

“You’re selling it to me.” You grinned, and he laughed back.

“Done. We just have to survive my mom first.”

“Don’t say that! It’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to meeting her. It’s two days, don’t even worry.”

“Hrrmph.” He made his deep, grumpy growl noise of frustration, standing up fully now to grab his shower gel and rolling his shoulders and neck to work out the cricks. “Yeah, yeah. Ok... it’ll be fine. I’m just…”

“I know. It’s not easy. I know. But, you should see her and, well, really she and I should meet by this point…” 

“Yeah… it’ll be fine…”

***

Hannah booked you into a private villa in Kapalua, Maui for ten nights. The brochure she shared with you was ridiculous, you’d never even pictured such luxury. The residence was secluded on the sprawling estate of a 5 star resort with an infinity pool stretching out from the open plan living area, and steps leading to your own private stretch of beach. You’d be flying out on the 23rd December. 

Sensing your slight weirded-outness at the prospect of a completely tropical Christmas, Adam asked Hannah to arrange for a traditional decorated Christmas tree to be set up in the apartment, “Just make it look festive, or whatever. I don’t know…”

Medea closed to a riotous rave send off, with critics glowing. Already Adam’s agent had a pile of film project pitches lined up, the script treatments dispatched to your apartment, keen to get him booked. Noah’s production team had emailed the Marriage Story shoot schedule over as well, he and Adam calling regularly. You’d both gone through the dates, working out travel times when you could potentially fly out to LA to spend time with him during the filming.

You’d also finalised your own contract for the David O. Russell movie, “The Stark Affair”. Adam had gone through it with you, making sure you were happy with any intimacy clauses, daily hour commitments, exclusivity clauses etc. You’d be shooting mostly in D.C and London, two months in total. He made sure the contract covered your travel and accommodation and got Hannah to block off time in his diary to visit you in London.

It all seemed straightforward. The contract included a number of publicity appearance commitments built in - from talk shows to photoshoots for review features. A LOT of publicity. You didn’t mind, it was great for your profile, you were just surprised given you were a minor part in the film. 

But as Adam pointed out, you were part of a central cast of five, so even if your role was smaller, the publicity would focus on the ensemble as that was key to the plot of the movie so if anything you were benefitting more. There was even a wardrobe clause that stipulated you could keep anything from the costume wardrobe after the shoot and have the assistance of a stylist during the promotional period.

Armani’s retail department were supplying costume and occasion wear as part of a brand placement deal with the studio, so you’d be required to wear Armani key pieces in any contractual public appearances. You laughed sarcastically at this. “Oh, what a hardship!!”

Adam chuckled at your reaction - Hannah’s office and Michael, his stylist, were always receiving freebies for Adam and between his contracts with Breitling, Burberry and Nike he had an embarrassing wealth of clothes piling up here and there that he didn’t know what to do with.

“I’m really not a fashionable guy, I just like comfortable shit, I mean… who needs twenty pairs of jeans? They just keep sending me shit.” 

“Oh, come on. You love it. You’re not as slobby as you think…”

“I used to be…Hannah got so pissed at me she hired Michael so I’d stop wearing bad suits to premieres.”

You giggled. He smiled with you, acknowledging that he had made strides in that department...

“The world is grateful. Michael’s amazing. Where DO you put it all, all the freebies...? I know there’s all the boxes in the basement...”

“I just let Hannah take them, or give them to Amy, Michael, my agent keeps some stuff… I mean, I get really nice stuff, but… it’s so pampered, it’s fucking weird. I keep a few bits but…”

You laughed so hard - no matter how famous he got, you knew he would still quite happily live out of his Marine kit bag and still got uncomfortable with this whole aspect of his job. He kept key pieces, wore them to death. The high value items he hung onto, his Breitling watches, the bike, his Grenson boots. He loved quality craftsmanship, handmade things, heritage. But sometimes it felt like it was raining freebie t-shirts and crap and all sorts. Even just some weird random stuff. Face powders and protein shake brands. You, on the other hand, couldn’t wait for some fashion freebies… 

*** 

The final script came through for your movie at the start of December and you both read through it, curled up together under a throw on the sofa, Moose laid out over Adam’s lap, both of you alternating between silent, concentrated reading, or vigorous debating on turns of phrase, subtext, movement notes.

You loved his interest in your work, could feel how proud he was of you, saw how much he loved watching you prepare and study. For someone who’d been doing this for years, it was like he was seeing himself through you, in his early days.

“You’re way more put together than I was. I was a fucking arrogant little shit fresh out of Juilliard. When I got my first movie scripts, I was so nervous, I threw up this wall of angry energy. I was all ‘well, if I don’t get it I didn’t fucking like this stupid movie idea anyways’ - which was bullshit of course, I wanted all the jobs. But it was my defense mechanism. Every script scared the shit out of me. You’re... so composed about all this, it’s… it’s fucking sexy.” 

You were making tea. He watched you from across the living room as you waited for the kettle to boil, a biro clenched between your teeth as you pored over your script, hair tumbled loose over his Henley that you still wore as pyjamas over small cotton shorts. Your lips were pouted in concentration, lean legs tapering down to the cosy slipper socks on your feet, brows furrowed as you read the lines out in your head, getting the rhythm of the words into your mind. 

He got hard just watching you from over his copy of the script, those legs that tangled with his in the dark warmth of your bed every night, those lips that brought him every kind of fevered dream, that made him sigh from kisses, or come undone as they wrapped around his cock. You’d been living together just a couple of months, but it felt simultaneously like forever, and as fresh as the morning he’d met you. His apartment had come to life, his endlessly frenetic brain had quietened, his heart was well and truly blown open for you. He felt whole. 

He rubbed his knee absentmindedly as you filled your cup, whistling a low melody as you stirred the teabag in the water. Fuck, he was  _ so _ gone. 

When you walked back to the sofa with your tea, brushing past his knees, he stopped you with his hand, taking the mug from you gently and depositing it on the coffee table before pulling you down to him. He kissed you, mouth hot and eager like a teenager’s, his hand sliding under your t-shirt to caress your ribs, your belly, tease your tight, peaked nipples that hardened under his nimble touch. He pulled your leg to wrap around his waist and seated you firmly in his lap, his cock hard and ready, rubbing at your clit through the fabric of your shorts, his breath short and panting as his kisses got ragged and you keened at his touch.

You fucked right there on the sofa, his fingers fumbling hurriedly to release his cock from his pants, slipping your thin shorts to one side to thrust into you, palms spread across your back, bunching at the cotton of your shirt, your hands fisting in his hair as you rocked over him, so achingly aroused at his sudden hunger to be inside you, so wet for him. 

You both came quickly, lips locked as you shuddered through your high, then you slowed to a gentle rocking and just stayed there, curled together on the couch, your bodies sated, hair mussed and sweaty. Your scripts were discarded on the floor, the tea forgotten as he spoke sweet things at you, his face buried between your cotton-covered breasts.

“What do you fucking do to me?” he mumbled. You stroked his forehead, heart bursting for him. 

“I love you, Adam Douglas Driver.” You looked him right in the eyes, his were shining, almost wet. He looked so young for a moment. 

“Me too.” He whispered, so softly. “I’m… it almost hurts. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with it, I’ve never felt like this… it’s just different with you. Better. Bigger. Infinitely more terrifying.”

“Is that good?”, you kissed his cheeks, the small moles above his left eyebrow. 

“It’s fucking awesome.” He kissed you back, cupping your breasts through the fabric of his Henley, then wrapping his arms to crush you to his chest, his sudden outburst of emotion quieting both of you in a gentle moment.

You were so gone for him.

And he suddenly knew  _ exactly _ what he was getting you for Christmas. 

***

Meeting Adam’s Mom was weird. Not uncomfortable. But not easy either. The visit had been brief, and totally devoid of any ruffled feathers, but the dynamic between mother and son was not a smooth one. 

They didn’t bicker so much as not communicate at all - it was mostly clipped, safe conversation and polite, superficial discussion rather than any deep or intimate warmth. You felt Adam more withdrawn whilst she was there. At night in bed, he talked out everything he couldn’t say in the day and kissed you with more possessiveness and emotion, almost needy.

Nancy had given you an awkward hug when she arrived at the apartment and you’d taken her bags and settled her in the guest room. Adam talked her through the plans you’d started discussing for the basement and took her to show her the layout. Home decor was a safe conversation topic. She admired the office and your desk and petted Moose enthusiastically, a reminder that Adam had grown up with dogs. 

You took her with you when walking Moose through Prospect Park, some “girl bonding” time you had promised yourself to do and to give Adam a break. It was fine, if unexciting. For his part, he booked lunch with her at Sardi’s and tickets for a Shostakovitch concert at the Lincoln Centre. He was nervous and edgy the whole time she stayed, although he never once was vocally agitated or gruff, you could sense a simmering discomfort just under the surface.

But somehow in all the mix, you sensed she “gave you her blessing”. Which maybe was what Adam was really trying to do all along by inviting her, knowing how traditional his parents were, and that despite all that had passed, he respected his Mom even if they no longer had much in common. 

He avoided telling her much about Marriage Story since the topic was too close to home and he didn’t want to get to a stage where the conversation turned sour, so he simply explained it was a romantic movie and talked to her about some of the film scripts he was considering. She looked bemused, not really understanding, but politely smiling and nodding along, clearly proud, but detached. Her world was small town Indiana, teaching and her church group. Sat here in this Brooklyn hipster apartment, expensive art on the walls and a driver picking her up, was just alien. Her son was now an adult, composed and self-assured, tall and commanding, grown handsome from his teenage awkward features and gangly legs, his world a million light years from Mishawaka. She looked somewhat like a startled deer in headlights by it all. 

He got the car with her to Newark when she left, saying he needed to talk to her about something. You gave her a big squeeze hug and promised to call to get a recipe from her, wanting her to feel at least that you saw her as family, to round her stay as positively as possible. When she left the apartment suddenly felt less stifled and you breathed a long sigh of relief. Now you could go on your holiday… which you’d never looked forward to so much in your life.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as ever for your patience...You might get a hint as to where we might be going next after this chapter... and yes, movies means awards, means awards ceremonies... YOUR COMMENTS AND KUDOS MEAN THE WORLD TO ME!!!!


	23. Mele Kalikimaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS! We're off to Hawaii and Adam's got more than a few surprises up his sleeve (and in his pocket!)  
> ***  
> In which we go to Maui  
> ***  
> In which Moose plays in the sea for the first time  
> ***  
> In which Adam drinks stupid little pineapple cocktails  
> ***   
> Things that rhyme with BLING!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! This chapter is legit EPIC, so get comfortable and make a hot drink. It's MEGA heavy on the rom com side, maybe it's the endless lockdown or I am just really becoming sappy, but I feel we just all need a big dose of fluff right now. I promise more SMUTTY SMUT in the future, but here is some more soft / fluff / happy (with a wee bit of smut...)  
> ***  
> As ever, don't know Adam or ANYONE associated with him or his life and this is pure and total fiction.

Your movie contract was signed and filming schedule agreed, diaries with Adam’s team coordinated and booked and Hannah had been instructed not to contact either of you for the coming fortnight unless your apartment was literally on fire. It was December 23rd.

Twelve hours later, the small plane touched down in Maui from Honolulu, early afternoon, depositing you, Adam and a flustered, slobbering Moose on the tarmac on the north facing runway reserved for private charters in a balmy 75 degree heat and a soft, sweet-scented breeze. 

At Honolulu, you’d made it through the terminal to the discreet hanger where your transfer was waiting with no fuss, both with your shades on, Adam with a baseball cap down low, you in a hoodie, Moose in a doggy carrier on the luggage cart being brought to you separately by staff via back corridors with your hold bags. 

In Maui, a sleek sedan car from the resort was waiting for you by the small StratosJets plane. A portly, short, smiling man in a cream, crisp shirt, linen jacket and black chinos was holding the doors open for you.

“Welcome Mr. Driver. Miss Myers. Welcome to Maui, Hawaii’s most beautiful island! Have you visited us before?”

Adam was drinking from his seltzer bottle, having just removed his sweater in the heat. He removed his baseball cap and ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh, uh, yeah I was here a couple of years back for the Maui film festival. Haven’t been since. I… uh, it’s a beautiful place. You’re lucky to live here.”

“Lucky, yes. You’re also lucky, being here… and with a beautiful woman!” 

He winked at Adam in the rear view mirror and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a grin and blush. Adam smirked and let out a bemused chuckle under his breath, looking over at you and gently taking your hand. You drove out of the airport service road and onto a wide open dual carriageway, flanked on one side by an endless, pristine stretch of white sand and swelling white-whipped waves and on the other, lush, tropical green forest speckled over steeply rising volcanic mountains, dotted here and there with pink-roofed villas peaking out from the greenery.

You’d snoozed on and off the whole way from New York to Honolulu, waking fully only to eat your meal and have a herbal tea, then a quick half hour doing the crossword before you got too drowsy. Adam had snored the whole way through, arms curled up into his travel pillow, legs unfurled and hanging off the edge of the fold down bed (they were too long even for American Airlines First Class), a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap, his book, iPod and copy of Rolling Stone resolutely ignored in favour of catching up on precious sleep following the end of his theatre run. 

His hand had loosely clutched yours for the first half of the journey before he twisted towards the window, tucking his chin into the pillow and pulling his hoodie over his head, looking more like a boy in his twenties, cheeks flushed from the stuffy heat of airline recycled air, than a grown man. You’d drunk his Champagne with your meal, taken advantage of the scented, heated eye mask and lavender face cream that came with your comfort pack, stuck on a movie to watch then promptly drifted off. 

Now in the back of the car to the hotel, Adam was wide awake, hands fidgety, his body full of his usual simmering nervous energy. You too felt refreshed, excited, rested. Moose was snuffling in his travel carrier in the back of the sedan and Adam reached back to stroke his nose.

“It’s ok, buddy. Nearly there, then we can go for a long walk.” Moose licked Adam’s fingers and padded restlessly in the small box.

Adam turned to look at you, squeezing your hand, eyes taking you in like he was seeing you for the first time, his gaze softening, looking almost bashful, boyish. Smitten.

He was dressed casually, black joggers, red and black Nikes, a white AITAF t-shirt and faded old navy baseball cap, his black Carhartt hoodie in his lap, hair wavy and curled well past his jaw. His t-shirt stretched gloriously over his stupidly broad chest, arms thick and strong, his mouth softened in a smile. 

Grateful for finally being free of his punishing workout and diet from Medea (which still didn’t stop him running 8 miles and doing an hours’ strength training the day before leaving), he’d devoured a huge double burger with cheese and bacon, frickles and parmesan fries in the airport’s private lounge and a couple of cold beers. 

He looked relaxed. Carefree. Gorgeous.

The car drove through the beginnings of a more residential resort area, the palm-tree lined road leading down tumbling hills to a golden coast line on your left, small cabanas and beach bars on your right, before sprawling condos and villas set back off the road amidst thick foliage and hibiscus bushes. The sun was beating down and you felt a million, million miles from cold and frost-bitten December New York. 

The car eventually pulled up a long drive to the resort entrance, a beautiful, elegant white stone and wood structure, shaped like an upturned canoe, bordered by tranquil ponds and green foliage, where your driver unloaded the car and a porter set your luggage onto a trolley as Adam took your hand and you walked into reception. He’d not cared to put on his shades or turn up the hood of his hoodie. He didn’t care at all right now, he was here with you and excited… fizzing with anticipation at what he had planned… and just wanted to get checked in so he could kick off his shoes and forget the stresses of the last few months.

As you stood at reception, two ladies arrived and gifted you with leis and, on a gleaming silver tray, two ice cold refreshing cocktails decked with thick slices of pineapple and mango. 

“Welcome Mr and Mrs Driver, welcome to Montage Resort. Aloha, we wish you a most pleasant stay”.

You let out a small squeak at the ‘Mrs. Driver’, stifling an awkward giggle as your face turned beetroot, but Adam simply nodded and leaned his head down - bending his 6’3 frame  _ very _ low - to accept the lei around his neck and smile at the two ladies. He didn’t correct them, or even bristle, he just nodded his thanks with total confidence and ease.

“Thank you, oh, thanks! It’s, uh, really nice to be here. Aloha.” He simply grinned, then turned back and wrapped his arm loosely round your waist as he signed the check in documents. 

By this time a couple of teenagers who’d been trawling around the lobby, probably waiting on their parents, as well as a couple who’d been having a drink in the lobby bar, had clocked Adam by sight and registered who you were. You could feel them hovering around as you completed check in and the receptionist explained how to unlock your golf cart (yes, golf cart) to get to your end of the resort where the private apartments were, as well as the number of a personal concierge. 

You kept glancing back, and giving the two gawking teenagers an embarrassed smile as you leaned your head against Adam’s shoulder, his fingers around your waist squeezing your side affectionately, keeping you close.

“I think we’re being watched…” you whispered at him as he tucked the concierge card in his pocket and looked down at you, then he turned his head behind him.

“Oh! Oh okay. That’s ok.” He grinned. “Sure!”

“D’you want to go and talk to them?”

He didn’t get a chance to respond.

The taller of the two teens walked over, puffing out his chest.

“You’re Kylo Ren!” He let out in a whoosh. He was grinning eagerly. “Oh my god, this is so cool.”

“Hi… I’m Adam.” he stuck his hand out to shake the kid’s, a kind smile on his face. “You’re a Star Wars fan, huh?”

“Oh my god! Yeah, like, I’ve liked watched them all. But you’re the coolest. You’re badass. I saw The Last Jedi, like, five times.”

“Kylo Ren, man. So awesome” the other one piped up.

“Oh, thank you. That’s really cool. I’m glad you liked it. Really.” Adam nodded with his quiet voiced humility at excessive praise, reaching out the shake the other kids hand. Calm, cool, collected, charming. You quietly melted behind him.

“Could you, um, can we get a photo with you? Can you do like the Kylo Ren voice?”

“Oh sure. You wanna… um I’m not so good with phones. If you want to, uh…” Adam looked bemused at the proffered cell phone, so tiny in his large hands. 

“I’ll take it” You offered. “I don’t mind, then all three of you can be in it, if your brother wants to be in it too?”

Adam gave you a small smile, a silent ‘thank you’.

“Oh, cool. Yeah. Thank you ma’am. Miss. Um… Are you his wife?”

You looked at Adam and blushed furiously, taking the phone from the taller kid’s outstretched hand and fiddling with the camera, trying to look anywhere but in his eyes.

“Oh, uh, no… um….”

“Oh, she’s my girlfriend.” He cut in, saving you. “ And you know what...she’s, uh, also a superhero. Yeah, she’d kick Kylo Ren’s ass any day. In a fight, me and her, she’d win. Seriously.”

“Yeah? Cool, that’s cool. You’re, um, really pretty ma’am.”

“Oh… em, thank you. Thanks!” you spluttered.

You were tomato red by this point and, flustered, concentrating on taking the pictures mostly so you could hide your cheeks behind the lens. Adam was laughing softly now, his eyes locked on yours as he crouched down behind the two gangly boys and pulled dorky pointing signs with his fingers. He joshed about with them a bit, quoting bits from the movies in his low Kylo Ren rumble as they grinned for the pictures.

Photos taken, the boys went running off to tell their parents. The other hovering older couple asked for autographs - the lady had an actual pad with her, clearly a seasoned autograph collector who was always prepared. They politely chatted with you and Adam for a couple of moments, showering him with compliments about his earlier movies, talking to you about their love of theatre.

Then it was just the two of you. And the golf cart. 

“I thought maybe you’d hate all that.” you ventured.

“No, really. I don’t mind it. It’s just a couple of people. We won’t get bugged here, it’s super private. It’s not like there’s going to be any big parties or touristy bars, but if a couple of people say hi I’m ok with that. Are you? If it bothers you I’m totally happy to avoid it, to be honest, but that’s probably the last we’ll see too many people...”

“No, it doesn’t bother me at all, not like that. It’s… you look so happy and relaxed. I’m just really, really glad to see you this chilled.”

He grinned at you as you got into the golf cart, Adam’s long legs bent awkwardly as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat and typed in the unlock code, looking at the resort map on his iphone. 

Just before pressing down on the pedal, he turned to look at you, hair all messy and soft, his eyes gleaming. His mouth was curled in a sweet smile, the one he seemed to reserve just for you. 

“Let’s go have fun.” he whispered. Then leaned over to kiss you, mouth open on yours, lips all warm and tender, the tip of his tongue teasing your bottom lip as his left hand reached out to stroke your knee. “I love you.” he added. 

You covered his hand with yours and kissed him back deeply, not caring who walked by at this point. The sun, the smell of hibiscus and coconuts, the gentle, sweet air and salty breeze, Adam’s hot mouth… you felt dizzy from it all.

You drove off down the winding path, lined with lanterns, flower bushes and palms, to the secluded end of the resort, past a long, empty stretch of grassy land, leading to a vast expanse of pink-hued sand, dotted sparsely with white linen-covered daybeds and loungers, before pulling up to the most insanely beautiful villa you’d seen in your life, surrounded by thick crops of plumeria and frangipani plants.

***

  
  


“Adam this place is ridiculous.”

“You don’t like it?” he furrowed his brow at you as he threw his backpack on from the back of the golf cart and fiddled for the key in his pocket, giving Moose in his travel box a reassuring “I’m coming back for you in a moment” look.

You turned to look at Adam, eyes wide.

“ _ Like _ it? It’s beautiful” I adore it. But it’s…I’m completely thrown! It’s ridiculous! I’ve never…”

He moved behind you, his chest resting against your back softly and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at your hip.

“What’s the point in having all this money and being a pampered asshole actor if I can’t spoil you?”

You giggled, reaching down to cover his hands with yours and giving them a gentle squeeze. 

“Fair enough. I’ll take it. This is… amazing. Seriously. Thank you.”

He chewed his cheeks, pulling away to go and open the door.

“Honestly, if you didn’t suggest going away I’d probably have buried my head in a book and would have looked up at some point mid-January, staring at the walls of our apartment wondering where Christmas even went.” He fiddled the key in the lock of the large double doors to the residence and pushed them open. 

“No, you wouldn’t, because I’d have kicked your ass all over the place if you did.” you grinned, following behind. You struggled to even take it all in.

The entrance lobby was all ivory walls and warm teak wood, hibiscus flowers in tall stone vases everywhere and polished stone flooring. A sleek spiral staircase in the centre led to a galleried upstairs floor and a skylight letting in a pool of light over everything. To your left, a porticoed doorway led to a huge open plan kitchen, dining and living space with floor to ceiling windows overlooking a terrace, private garden and enormous, wrap around infinity pool. Everything was tasteful, simple, but luxurious - paintings by local Hawaiian artists hung on the wall, scenes of rocky coves, surfers, flowers. There were coral-hued throws and white plump cushions scattered on deep sofas, linen rugs on the floor and lounger beds overlooking the water. 

The downstairs bathroom was basically an enormous sunken jacuzzi tub, also with a view over the beach beyond and the bedrooms were large, airy and bright, the master bedroom bed big enough for a party. 

Adam dumped his bag and went out to collect Moose from the cart, immediately coaxing him out of his travel box, ruffling his ears and rubbing his belly before opening the windows to let him out onto the deck to run around outside and stretch his tired little paws. 

Then he found you upstairs, in the master bedroom, just standing out on the balcony looking out at the view, breathing in the sweet-scented sea air. He watched you for a moment from the doorway quietly, a breeze playing at the fine strands of auburn hair curled at the nape of your neck, your pale blue cotton sundress -  _ Jesus those dresses drove him insane  _ \- ruffled around the soft skin at the back of your knees. He watched as you rolled your shoulders and took a deep breath, quiet in thought. His breath hitched a little and he fell in love with you all over again. He’d ordered for a few things to be delivered the following day, Christmas Day, but had brought one present with him in person, the only one that mattered, and it had been burning a hole in the inner lining of his suitcase since yesterday. 

“Hey. What’s going on?” He padded over to stand beside you, looping his little finger around yours as you held onto the balcony railing, leaning over to press a kiss to your hair.

“Oh, I’m just… taking it all in. It’s… perfect. Feels like New York is a hundred galaxies away.” 

You turned to him, taking off your shades to look him in the eyes, the hazel of his irises gleaming more than usual, the flecks of gold reflecting the sunlight, his face earnest as he chewed his bottom lip. “You’re perfect”, he whispered and you pushed onto your tiptoes to kiss him deeply, throwing your arms around his neck and carding your fingers through his tousled hair. His mouth was warm and tasted of honey, his hands slipped down to the the dip of your back, cupping the swell of your bum and pulling your hips against his as he bent to kiss you more deeply, tongue savouring the taste of you, his body responding to the feel of your lips against his, your soft moans as he claimed your mouth, the scent of your skin. 

You stood and kissed for a long time, unhurried, slow kisses, heated and languid, bodies pressed close, arms cradling each other in the late afternoon sun. 

Moose huffed and barked below, snuffling about the shrubs bordering one side of the infinity pool and you slowly broke away from Adam’s embrace. You smirked as he cleared his throat, giggling as he reached down to his sweatpants and rearranging his obvious semi-erection. As carried away as you could easily have been, you still wanted to go exploring, to change and freshen up from your travel clothes. The caddy with all your luggage was still waiting downstairs and Moose really did need a proper walk. You had all the time in the world, for once, and you both wanted to savour it.

Back downstairs you stepped out onto the poolside terrace and noticed something you hadn’t seen from the balcony upstairs. Tucked in a corner by the outside dining table was an enormous Christmas tree, wrapped in ribbons and hung with cream and coral baubles, seashells and starfish shaped decorations, coloured fairy lights shaped like flowers. Underneath it were a couple of large presents, a pair of hotel branded Santa hats (and a little Santa coat for Moose!) and a note.

“Merry Christmas from all the team at Montage Residences. May your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white... sandy beach Christmases!”

There was an enormous fruit basket of mangoes, pineapples, melons, kiwi fruits, and chocolates, a case of Krug Champagne and two monogrammed linen beach throws,  ‘AD’ and  ‘AM’ . 

“Adam did you organise the tree?” You hollered from the deck. He stuck his head out, hand clutching one of his luggage bags.

“Yeah. I didn’t want you to feel like you didn’t get any of the festive… you know, experience…” he looked awkward, wondering if he’d overdone it.

You grinned at him.

“See? You think you’re terrible at all this, but you’re not. You’re really not. You’re brilliant. You’re thoughtful and brilliant. Oh, and I think Hannah had a shit ton of Champagne sent…”

“Yeah… that’s Hannah! There’s also a box here for you on the dinner table, it’s black, I’m not sure but I think it might be from your agent?”

“What?” You stepped inside and saw Adam was gesturing at a huge, sleek black cardboard box in one hand, wrapped in a silver bow. “Oh… ok?”   
  


You opened it as Adam started taking the bags upstairs. 

Inside the box was a thick layering of silver tissue paper and a note. 

“Amy, delighted to have you on board ‘The Stark Affair’. Enjoy your vacation and see you in January! Love Martha and Team Armani Studios.”

The costume team for your movie. This was… unexpected. You unwrapped the tissue paper to reveal a soft, pale silver and cream silk shift dress, embroidered with pink flowers, with spaghetti straps and a low back. It was beautiful. You took a deep breath. This was all a bit overwhelming. 

You went upstairs and found Adam changed into a pale denim shirt and black cotton chinos, hair damp from a quick dunk under the shower. 

“The movie team… they gifted me a dress.”

“Oh, that’s… yeah. See, it’s happening already!” He smirked, almost like he was remembering his first movie experiences.

“It’s weird. I see what you mean now… it’s all… um, I’m a bit overwhelmed.” You laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s gorgeous. But it’s fucking weird. I… I worked in a dog rescue centre. I teach theater. Now… this! What is my life? What the fuck, Adam?”

He let out a loud, carefree, loose laugh, eyes crinkling, walking over to pull you into a bear hug.

“‘The fuck’ is that you’re also a  _ really _ good actress and producer and you just got your break. And that’s how fucked up it is. It just happens, you just… one day to the next, you know? I was waiting tables at some shitty steak joint, living in a shitty basement in Queens then suddenly it was like “oh, hey, HBO just put you in a show, be in our stupid jeans commercial!” The moment happens and then everything changes. But you deserve it. All of it.”

“Thank you” you said into his shirt. 

“I didn’t do anything.” He grinned. “So yeah, things will change, but  _ you _ don’t change. That’s the only thing that matters. You are still you. Even if things are weird, it’s all just people doing their jobs, like us. Yeah it’s fucking… uh, bizarre, sometimes and well… you know how I feel about it all… but, enjoy it.”   
  


“Yeah… I will. I do… it’s… I’ll get used to it. One day…”

“Yeeeaaaaah, that takes time.” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s go explore. I want to see Moose go crazy in the water. I bet he’s a total surf dog.”

***

You took a quick shower and changed into a simple olive green linen strappy dress and flip flops, then joined Adam downstairs in the garden. You walked the length of your private stretch of beach as the sun turned a hazy golden hue and began it’s lazy descent below the horizon, scattering shards of pink and orange over the waves. Moose splashed about ahead of you in the frothy water, tongue lolling manically and tail wagging a storm. He chased after the waves as they retreated then scurried away as they rolled back in, causing him to yelp excitedly. Adam was grinning like a loon, hurling endless proud dad superlatives and “Good boy, who’s a good boy, yes you are!” which made you laugh. Every once in a while Moose would trot back to you to nuzzle his cold wet nose into your knees or jump alongside you, before scampering off again into the bushes or back to the water. 

Aside from showering Moose with praise, and throwing him the odd branch or tennis ball, Adam was quiet, pensive and relaxed. You sensed something was on his mind, but nothing sinister or sad, on the contrary, it was more a lightness in him, a happy restlessness like he was wanting to get something exciting off his chest. You didn’t push him, you were here for days and you had no doubt he’d spill when he felt the moment was right.

As it was you were content just being here, in this paradisiac place, the low sun casting a glow over Adam’s face, the defined muscles of his forearms where he’d rolled his shirt sleeves up, his fingers laced with yours, the water lapping at your bare feet and the soft air thick with heady floral scent and warm on your skin. 

As you kept walking you eventually joined the main resort beach, which was relatively quiet, just a few couples here and there walking, or lounging on the day beds with cocktails, reading or snoozing. A low thrum of cool lounge music piped through from a poolside bar beyond the palms, soft singing, some local Hawaiian DJ playing a remix of old 50s surf music.

Adam draped his arm loosely around your shoulders and leaned to kiss you, then asked quietly.

“So… difficult decision but…uh, for dinner… I actually wanted to try cooking a festive Christmas thing, like something special, but I don’t know if you prefer we just order room service?”   
  


“You want to cook? I’d love that. You’re really getting into the cooking thing aren’t you?” 

He’d been experimenting more in the kitchen on the weekends, applying his usual obsessive approach and full enthusiasm to it, even though his free time had been so limited recently. You were nothing but encouraging of this new hobby.

“Yeah, it’s relaxing. I like… the creativity, I think it’s good for my control issues, you know. Having to be guided by the senses a lot. Also, I like chopping things. Don’t you think I’m more chilled after I cook? You liked that chicken piccata thing I did.” he queried, eyes seeking approval.

“You do seem really happy in the kitchen. Maybe it’s all the knives and onion stabbing? Releasing all that pent up energy?” You joked. “That chicken was so damn good...Although why it always somehow takes you five pans to cook one omelette, I don’t know.” you grinned.

“Well.. you know, I get caught up, emotionally… in the moment.” He deadpanned, a mocking smile on his face. You giggled.

“So...what did you have in mind for… Christmas things?” you asked.

He took your hand again and walked you up through the palm-lined pathway to the long, low, tiki-style cabana bar nestled at one end of the main resort pool. 

“Well… first, I say we get a drink… watch the sunset fully. Then… I thought I could do a ton of seafood. Lobster, some tuna ceviche, some shrimp. I called ahead and asked the hotel if they could send a box of fresh fish round and some instructions and the Chef gave me a whole recipe. So…”

You turned to face Adam, surprised, and frankly not a little turned on. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at you intently.

“You really planned a lot didn’t you? I mean… I vaguely heard you talking to Hannah when you were booking this trip but I had no idea you’d put this much thought into everything. It’s…”

“Unexpected?” he mused, grinning softly.

“Yes. And charming. And… very sexy.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Very. So… yes you can cook me a seafood feast. But…”

“What?”

“Let’s get messy on some of those stupid pineapple cocktails first.”

“Shit, yes. Let’s.” 

You walked over to the bar, Moose trotting behind you, nodding at a couple of other guests enjoying sundowners by the pool - no one here batted an eyelid if they even recognised Adam, this resort was mainly a jetset crowd anyway, so no one really gave a crap.

Adam ordered two large Mai Tais - he looked completely ridiculous sipping on the kitsch blue drink, topped with its frilly paper parasol and maraschino cherries, but neither of you cared. You both clinked glasses, sat back in your seats with your feet up and watched the sun sink behind the horizon as the dark rum warmed your bellies.

***

Whilst you’d been at the bar, a porter had dropped off a large cool box of fresh seafood to your residence kitchen with a full list of instructions. 

Adam was visibly excited to get to work, exploring the villa’s kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards, poking about the shelves and getting his pans and knives ready. 

You popped the cork on one of the bottles of Champagne which had been chilling in the fridge, poured you each a glass and - feeling festive despite the sound of rolling waves and the balmy air - you dug out a Christmas playlist on your iPod and soon the sounds of the Beach Boys Christmas album (it seemed appropriate) filled the room. 

You sat on a stool at the end of the vast marble kitchen island where Adam was chopping garlic and chillies, casting small smiling glances as you watched him work. You loved watching his large hands, those long elegant fingers at work, so nimble despite their size, mastering the delicate task of slicing and paring. 

“Can I help, or do anything?” you asked, watching as he prepped the lobsters.

“Nope. You just relax! You can watch, or...I mean, I might need you to read out instructions when I actually start the cooking bit, but otherwise no. You can kiss me. That’s allowed.”

You grinned and Adam slid over to where you were seated, his hands still sticky from the lobster and chopped herbs. He leaned towards you and gently pressed his lips to yours, letting out a small hum of satisfaction before moving in closer. He kept his hands hovering at your sides as you reached out to cling at his shirt, but bent down to capture your mouth fully and move his body in towards yours, between your legs. His tongue pushed between your lips, seeking yours, tasting you and you cupped his face, a small moan escaping you at how aroused you felt. There was a clang as his feet hit the legs of the stool you were sitting on as he brought an arm around your waist, still careful to keep his hands off your dress, but curling his thick forearm around you as his kisses became hungrier. 

You ran your hand down his body, fingers teasing over the buttons of his shirt, stretched pleasingly over the broad expanse of his chest. Your fingers slipped under the hem, stroking the soft skin and downy hairs of his happy trail before you slipped your hand into his jeans and felt him getting hard under your touch. 

“Mm… okay... yes…” he arched into the palm of your hand. 

You quickly undid the buttons on his jeans, pushing his black briefs down and wrapping your fingers around his cock, the skin warm and silky over his hard length. You stroked him gently, fingertips teasing over the sensitive skin, hand reaching down to cup his balls, your other hand toying with his hair as you kissed him, his heartbeat getting faster. 

“Mm… wait, wait, wait…” He pulled away briefly, cock jutting proudly from his pants as he suddenly looked around for a dish towel, hair wild and lips kiss-swollen. You giggled as he shuffled round the counter and grabbed a towel from the surface behind him, then quickly washed his hands in the sink, drying them in a frenzy before striding back to claim your mouth, arms lifting you clean off the stool as his lips stole the breath from you.

“Uh… sofa…?” You mumbled, mouth locked on his as he carried you, one hand holding you up and the other sliding up under the hem of your skirt to grip the flesh of your thigh. 

“Mm hmm, sofa, yep. Uh huh…” 

He stumbled over to the largest cream sofa and, after dipping you both briefly to reach out and throw all the decorative cushions onto the floor deposited you along the the length of the couch, climbing over you to settle between your legs, both of you lost in each other’s kisses now, his hands feverish against your skin, in your hair, between your thighs. 

You pulled at his shirt, it was getting in the way. You gave the collar a few tugs, struggling to undo the buttons as you kissed him, biting and sucking at his bottom lip, his cock nudging against your clit through the thin lace of your panties, making you ache. He awkwardly lifted himself up on his elbows to give you better access to his shirt but it was too late - you heard a rip as you tugged harder and the fabric tore. Small buttons skittered over the floor. You yanked his shirt down his arms, needing to feel the heat of his skin, dragging your fingernails over his pectorals, his dark nipples, making him growl. 

He nipped at your lips, suckled on your tongue and pushed your dress up past your thighs and your waist, thrusting against your inner thigh now, the head of his cock swollen and glistening with pre-cum. You helped him by dragging your dress higher, revealing the dip of your belly button, the black slip of lace covering your now soaked cunt. Adam sat up, tugging the remains of his shirt off fully and hooking your panties to one side, as you arched into his hand. You were both so keyed up by now, his eyes hooded and dark as he dragged the pad of his thumb along your folds, coating his fingers with the slick of your arousal before settling over your clit, tracing slow, teasing circles over the swollen nub, causing your whole body to shudder. 

His cock twitched as he watched you react to his touch and he stroked himself, fist tight around his length, eyes locked on yours as you squirmed beneath him, cheeks flushed and lips parted, panting.

Vaguely in the background the sound of water coming to the boil drifted into your consciousness but you didn’t really register. You pulled Adam down to you to claim his mouth again as he guided his cock inside you, grabbing your hips to push you down and thrust deeper, your nails dragging along his scalp and the back of his neck as your tongues danced.

You fucked hard and fast, it was messy and horny and Adam came quickly but stayed hard inside you and slowed his thrusts down to please you - rolling his hips to hit the angle he knew you liked and softening his kisses to slow, languid teases with the tip of his tongue over your lips just the way you liked it. You loved how the slow play of his tongue across your lips sent small jolts of electricity straight to your clit, how he matched the rhythm of his soft little licks with the steady stroke of his fingers across your pussy and the slow, deep-angled thrust of his cock between your thighs. He coaxed a long, sweet orgasm from you, swallowing your cries as you shuddered beneath him, hands gripping at his arms, his mouth smothering yours with sweet kisses. You felt a warm trickle of cum coat between your legs as he continued moving inside you, eventually slowing to a halt and resting his forehead against yours, just feeling the small tremors of your body against his.

His breathing was hard and shallow and he swallowed a couple of times as he caught his breath and you did the same, feeling his heart slowly come back from a fast beat to a steady rhythm against your chest. The water boiling in the pan on the hob was bubbling so much now it was rattling the pan lid and you both let out a laugh as you realised what the sound was.

He moved awkwardly above you, pulling out and shuffling over you to grab his shirt from the floor and clean himself up, all the while peppering your cheeks and nose with kisses.

“I…. we should probably, uh, go check that pan before it boils over…” he grinned. 

“A wise idea…” you chuckled, hand stroking his hip and the delicious curve of his ass. “I think we’ve proven the point that lobster is, in fact, an aphrodisiac, although I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to actually eat it first to get the effect.”

“Yeah, well, I like just getting stuck in with things… you know, less thinking, more doing.” Adam grinned.

“Ha! A lie, you’re the most overthinking overthinker I know.” you sat up and rearranged your dress and panties and started to gather the cushions from the floor as Adam tried to make some sort of tamed order of his dishevelled mop of hair. 

“I’m.. going to take a super quick shower” you said, curling your arms around Adam in a hug, laying a kiss on his collarbone. “Then I’ll lay the table. And… if we make it through dinner, maybe we can have a repeat performance of this later… in the tub?”

Adam’s eyebrows cocked and he gave you a dark, hungry look. “Or the pool?” he suggested.

“Or… both?”

“Go! Shower!” he joked, shooting you a mock-frustrated look. “Jesus, I’ll never fucking get anything done at this rate…” he was grinning from ear to ear, the tips of his ears peaking through his tousled hair, his dimples utterly adorable as he fussed about the kitchen, taking up the whole space with his huge body, all limbs and eagerness.

You grinned at him and turned up the sound just as the Beach Boys launched into Little Saint Nick as you made your way to the stairs singing your head off loudly.

Adam returned to the lobsters and chopping board, trying to regain a sense of what he’d been doing and yet grateful for all the distractions - the sex, the Champagne, your godawful cheesy Christmas music, the cooking. Anything that could keep down the nervous knot in his stomach of the moment he had planned for tomorrow, Christmas Day. Hoping to God he wasn’t jumping the gun, but at the same time, deep in his gut, never more sure of anything in his life. 

***

The following morning, before the sun had even cracked above the horizon, you felt Adam roll out of bed and pad over to the wardrobe to slip on his shorts, tshirt and running shoes. You were used to his early morning workouts, not usually rousing when he woke. But you’d slept blissfully and had opened your eyes easily when the weight in the bed had shifted. 

You turned your head and called out softly as he was doing up a shoelace.

“Morning…”

“Oh, shit. Did I wake you, sorry… I was just going for a run…”

“It’s ok. I don’t mind at all. Come here.”

He padded over and kneeled on the bed, leaning down to kiss you softly. 

“Hi.” He whispered. “Merry Christmas.” He mumbled as you turned to face him properly and you pulled him gently down to you, loving the heavy press of his warm body against yours over the sheets. 

“Merry Christmas… I just wanted to kiss you. I’m going to, you know, go back to snooze land now.”

He nibbled at your bottom lip, kissed you sweetly and brushed the strands of hair from around your face, tracing the lines of your cheeks and jaw with the pad of his thumb, your eyes gentle in the blueish dawn light. 

“I love you.” He said, quietly. “I’m going to make pancakes when I get back. Then… presents?”

“I love you too.” You kissed him again, his lips so soft and sweet, his body curled around yours as you snuggled in the mess of covers. “I also love pancakes. And presents. It’s a pretty damn brilliant combination…”

“I don’t know. I’d ditch the pancakes and presents as long as I got to have you.” Adam kissed the corner of your mouth, before moving down to pepper little pecks along your collarbone and behind your ear.

“Mmm… ok, you’re being incredibly corny this morning…” you giggled. “I’m not complaining, it’s… very sweet.” You grinned at him and he looked down at you, face suddenly back to it’s more serious, almost concerned look. 

“Shit, we can’t have that. I have a reputation as a very intimidating person to preserve.” he declared, with mock sternness. You laughed and swatted at his shoulder before he pressed a final, firm kiss to your lips before moving off the bed. 

“Go back to sleep, I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Mmm hmmm. Love you.”

“Love you too. Get ready for more corny shit when I get back.” He threw you a shit-eating grin.

And with that he went downstairs. 

You couldn’t resist slipping out of bed to watch him as he walked out onto the deck, popped his ipod headphones in and did a couple of calf and hamstring stretches before setting off down the garden path past the pool to the beach beyond. The sun was just tentatively rising over the horizon and you watched Adam start to run, his silhouette bathed in a pale amber glow, long legs beating along the sand. Your heart swelled for him, for everything he made you feel, for everything you had shared with him and had yet to share with him. For the first Christmas in many years that you had felt truly happy. 

You wanted him in your life forever. The thought had niggled you for a while and you’d been nervous it was maybe too soon to feel that way, but you knew in your bones he was it for you. You could never have imagined anyone fitting so perfectly with you, even his flaws, his complications, his quirks. You felt like he knew you inside out, and what he didn’t know he would accept, would compromise for. It all fit like puzzle pieces. You parked the thought and crept back to bed, although you knew sleep wouldn’t come now. You were excited for the day. You were excited because deep in the pit of your stomach you were pretty certain Adam felt the same way. And that idea made your whole body tingle. 

***

When Adam got back from his run, you were laid out on your stomach on the deck by the infinity pool play wrestling with Moose. You’d put the ridiculous Santa dog suit on him, just for fun, and when Adam came bounding up the steps to the deck from the garden Moose jerked his head around and almost gave him a quizzical “what do you think?” look.

“What the fuck is that?” Adam groaned, pinching his nose and snorting.

“The hotel is being cute. They gave us a doggie Santa suit! I couldn’t resist.” you got up as Moose wagged his tail and nuzzled Adam’s knees. 

“That’s atrocious.” he smirked.

“I know, it’s tragic. But come on! It’s the Christmas spirit - also, it was either putting it on him or he was going to chew it to shreds all over the kitchen.”

“I’m with Moose on that one.” Adam said, then kneeled down to hug Moose and press a kiss to your shoulder.

“Ok. I’m showering, then pancakes… then presents.”

***

There was a glint in Adam’s eye that morning that seemed even more mischievous and excited than usual, and he’d been fizzing with restlessness since you’d arrived in Hawaii. As he knocked about the kitchen mixing batter and making coffees, his hands seemed constantly active. He kept rubbing his palms against his thighs, touching his lip in thought, squeezing his hand into a fist like he was massaging an invisible stress ball. He was shooting glances at you every other second as he busied himself far more than was necessary to make a few pancakes. 

A porter from the hotel had dropped off a small delivery of presents to the door just before Adam had started cooking. You’d both bought each other gifts and Hannah had organised to ship them over rather than have to carry them all with your luggage. To distract yourself from observing Adam too closely and wondering what was up with him you went to arrange the gifts on the coffee table.

Adam eventually walked over with two stacks of fluffy pancakes and two mugs of steaming coffee. He was grinning, boyishly, at the sight of you sitting on the sofa surrounded by colourfully wrapped boxes. You’d put one of the Santa hats on and looked pink-cheeked and serenely happy - his heart was knocked sideways for a moment. 

“This is literally the first Christmas I’ve done presents, pancakes  _ and _ actually being with someone I want to really be with in… maybe like a decade?” He said, sitting down on the couch beside you and pulling you into a hug. He looked down at you, eyes smiling and kissed you. It was sweet and tender, but there was something else in it. A silent expression of thanks, a heavier meaning. You were his home and he was letting you know this in that kiss. You cupped his cheek and whispered against his lips. 

“I don’t know what’s got into you this week, but I’m all over this hyper-romantic dorky Adam and I love this Christmas already. And... I’m just stupidly happy. With you.”

“Me too.” He whispered back.

You guzzled the pancakes and opened each other’s gifts, Moose was rolling around in discarded wrapping paper, Jackie Wilson was crooning on the speakers. Adam had bought you a beautiful Cartier watch, engraved on the back, and a collection book of plays by modern women writers. There was also a card, with a collection receipt inside and a photograph of a painting. 

“What’s this?” you asked.

“I managed to track down that Brooklyn artist you loved that painted the lilies we have on the wall. The painting you brought from your apartment? Well… Rose found him and I went to check it out. He has a studio now.”

“He does? You… you went on a detective mission to find this guy?”

“I… Rose did. I gave her really bad clues and she somehow came up with the goods, so I think the credit is mostly hers. Anyway, we can go pick it up when we get back. I thought maybe… for the basement when we start decorating?”

You looked at the photograph of the painting he’d bought you. It was a large, semi-abstract, darkly coloured spread of pomegranates split open. It was beautiful.

“I… this is so thoughtful. I love it. Thank you.” You grinned and squeezed his knee. He was rubbing his palms again, reaching for his coffee mug repeatedly even though he’d finished his drink ages ago. You distracted him by plonking a box on his lap.

You’d bought him a coffee table book on Scandinavian architecture and design - he was currently obsessed with woodwork and mid-century Danish furniture, even more so now you were planning the basement renovations. Alongside that were a couple of books of poetry, a pair of hand-stitched Belstaff leather motorcycle gloves and a navy merino sweater from his favourite store. You cleaned up the wrapping paper and snuggled some more on the sofa, listening to the waves outside. Adam called his Mom to wish the family Merry Christmas whilst you did the same, then facetimed Rose. 

Adam was still fidgeting about the living room when you returned to the from making your calls, the breakfast plates cleaned away and presents neatly stacked on the coffee table.

He was pacing about the room, looking at the pictures on the walls with far too focused interest, poking at the books on the shelves, hands diving in and out of his jeans pocket and palms rubbing against his thighs. He turned way too fast when you walked in. 

“Oh. Hey. So... I planned a thing later…” he said, as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling. 

“Another surprise? Is this why you’re being so jumpy and... shmaltzy?” You teased him, poking his chest with your finger. 

“I’m… I’m jumpy?” He looked confused and smiled awkward, like he’d just become hyper aware of himself then was trying to brush it off. “Uh, well… It’s… I thought we could go see some turtles. It’s really cool, there’s a bay not far form here, like an hour’s drive. Super secluded, and you can go and observe them when they come up on the beach. It’s pretty fucking awesome. I just… I wanted to do something fun for the day.” He looked at you so eagerly you nearly burst out laughing.

“I’d LOVE that. I’ve never seen turtles. Have you?”

“So, when I was here a couple of years ago for the, uh, Maui Film Festival, I took my mom and the hotel we were at recommended going to watch the turtles. I took her for the day and it was pretty awesome. But the guys here told me about a more secluded bay to spot them. I thought we could hire a car and go check it out?”

You looked at him and grinned. His fingers were absentmindedly dancing over the curve of your hip as he smiled back. 

“Let’s do it. I just need to change and I’m ready.”

“Yeah? Cool. I… well, I sort of already booked a car, so… we can go straight away.”

“Of course you did! You’re… I don’t know if it’s the control freak in you coming out, or what, but this is all… so… perfect! I feel like you still have another ace up your sleeve you’re not telling me about...” You gave him a cock-eyed look, chuckling. He had dialled his rom-com levels of cheesy up to the max, the levels of planning here were so out of character you were almost,  _ almost,  _ beginning to worry. 

He looked deadly serious at you, face suddenly stoic and revealing nothing. 

“Nope. Just turtles. And really, really high levels of help from Hannah.” He grinned. 

***

You drove along the most glorious stretch of wide open road winding along the cliff tops skirting the sea, nothing but miles of sandy bays before you. You’d decided to wear the dress you’d been gifted as you felt today - being Christmas, and with all the romance and all - was an appropriate occasion. You had a sunhat on and your sandals, the sun was beating down. Adam had one arm around the back rest behind your shoulders, the windows rolled down with the breeze ruffling his hair as he drove. He looked good in his Ray-Bans, a fitted white t-shirt contrasting with the faint tan on his arms. Every now and again he looked over at you and smiled, that soft smile that seemed reserved just for you, and he chewed his bottom lip.

When you got to Maluaka Beach, it was just past midday. He parked at one end of the cove, in a small layby surrounded by trees and as you walked down a small sandy track, through a dense thicket of low shrubs and palms the path opened up onto the most stunning bay you’d ever seen. Pink and white sand, opalescent water, swaying palms and thick lush forest stretched for miles before you, the bay dominated at one end by two steep mountains, lending the postcard sandy bay a dramatic air. 

Adam had packed a blanket and cool basket with some wine and snacks and a pair of binoculars that the concierge had lent you so you could observe the local birds and spot the turtles as they made their way to shore from the sea. 

“It’s breath-taking!” You exclaimed, kicking off your sandals as Adam laid out the blanket. He was beaming at you. Watching your excitement put knots in his stomach as he reached into the pocket of his shorts for the fifth time that morning and felt for the ring tucked in there. He swallowed, hard. His throat felt like sandpaper. 

You turned to look at him, hand covering your eyes from the sun and he reached an arm up to take your hand. 

“Come here.” He said, tugging you down. 

You curled up between his legs, resting your back against his chest as he cradled you in his arms, legs stretched out in front of you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, breathing in the scent of your hair. His breath warmed your cheeks and you felt him give you a small squeeze. 

You sat like that for a long time, enjoying each other’s presence, the comfortable silence as he rocked you gently in his arms. You relished the feel of his body against yours, his warmth, the protectiveness of his arms, the slow, steady beat of his heart beating against your back. You laced your fingers with his and leaned back into him, both of you just taking in the beauty of the landscape before you, the rumble of the waves as they rolled in, the symphony of the birdsong, the wind rustling the palm fronds. It was perfect, so perfect you felt your heart could burst at that moment. You honestly didn’t care if the turtles never showed.

“I love you.” Adam whispered against your cheek, his chin nestled on your shoulder. You felt the low rumble of his voice in his chest as he spoke, feeling his thumb stroke small circles across your hand. You tilted your head back and turned to face him and he kissed you, mouth soft and tender, lips parted. He kissed your cupid’s bow and gently sucked your bottom lip between his, before teasing you with his tongue, moaning quietly into your mouth as you kissed him back. His heart was racing in his chest, you felt it beating wildly, his body radiating heat. When he pulled back he looked almost feverish.

You turned your body to face him properly, crossing your legs between his and curling your arms around his shoulders. His eyes were shining and he looked at you with an intensity that made you blush, saying nothing, just looking at you, all wonder and determination.

“Amy I…”

“Are you…?” The words died on your tongue as you watched him swallow and brush a lock of hair from your face. You giggled nervously. “Sorry… you go.”

“Oh. Uh…” He’d lost his momentum momentarily and looked annoyed at himself for a moment, then looked back up at you. 

“Uh… yeah. So… I’ve been… doing a lot of thinking. About this year… and you. And us. And… I’m happy. I’m… really fucking happy. You make me happy. You’ve made my life happier and just generally, so fucking great. And… I could wait more, or longer or whatever. And maybe I’m crazy. But… I don’t want to wait because I think… I hope. I don’t know. I feel like you get me and I think I get you, and so I’m not waiting. I’m…”

You were staring at him and suddenly your chest felt tight and you also felt your heart hammering. Your cheeks flushed as you felt a surge of heat rise through your body.  _ Was he…? _

_ Oh God. OH. GOD.  _ You open dyour mouth, then closed it because you weren’t even sure what you were going to say, except the more he babbled the more you felt your heart close to exploding.

“I’m rambling, Jesus. I’m rambling like a fucking crazy person…” He looked down, letting out a small self-deprecating snort. Then his head shot up and he looked you right in the eye. A moment of courage.

“Amy, you know how the two ladies at the reception called us Mr and Mrs Driver, by mistake?”

You opened your mouth to say “yes” but all that came out was a squeak so you just nodded.

“Uh… So, what if next time someone says that, it’s not a mistake?”

Your cheeks must be tomato red right now, your face was on fire. You couldn’t have stopped the smile spreading across your face in a million years. You watched, dumbfounded as Adam fumbled about in his pocket and pulled out a tiny box. 

Spurred on by your smile, he popped the lid of the box open, his own face lighting up as a grin slowly spread across his cheeks, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth as you gazed down at the ring nestled in the soft leather holder. He took a deep breath then,

“Amy will you marry me?”

You weren’t sure how long you’d been holding your breath but when you let out the “YES!” your head felt dizzy. You felt tears prick behind your eyes as you watched his grin get even bigger and he crushed his lips to yours, almost dropping the ring box in the sand as he clutched you to him, legs wrapping around your waist as you straddled him. 

“Yes, Adam Douglas Driver, I will 100% marry you. And you’re not crazy. Or if you are, then that’s exactly why I love you. I… I’ve wanted this for a long time too.” You grinned at him, heart stuttering with joy.

He kissed you, didn’t stop kissing you, laughing with relief and chuckling with near unsuppressed happiness. 

“Oh… wait, I’m supposed to actually put the ring on your finger.” you both laughed and he fished about on the blanket to find the box again. This time you actually looked at the ring, fingers still trembling as he took it out of it’s small casing. It was a twisted silver band topped with a square cut sapphire and two small diamonds, simple but different, with a vintage feel that was very “you”. It was beautiful. He fumbled a bit taking it out of the box as he held your hand.

“My giant fingers…” he chuckled, looking up at you, his face literally glowing. He slipped the ring onto your finger before kissing you again. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He mumbled, as you kissed him back, a sheen of tears coating your cheeks. “Also… I’m so glad I did this today and you actually said yes, because otherwise I would have lost my mind by the end of this holiday.” He laughed and you let out a snort. 

“I was beginning to think you had hives or something, you’ve been so fidgety since we got here, I  _ knew  _ something was up!” you laughed with him.

“I can’t believe you just asked me to marry you.” You stared at the ring. “I… I thought about it this morning. I’ve actually… I think I knew for a long time already.”

“Me too. I thought maybe it would be too soon, but I think we’re both people who know what we want and when we know, we don’t mess around.”

“I wanted this, Adam. So much.”

“I think I knew, pretty early on.” Adam whispered, holding your hand and admiring the ring on your finger, kissing each finger tip on that hand gently as he spoke. “I knew when we had dinner at Noah’s. When we were dancing. We were both a bit drunk. They played Bowie. You gave me a look while we were waiting for the cab and I knew. I think I already knew I was in love with you, even subconsciously. I knew I wouldn’t ever love anyone else the same way from that moment. That was it.”

He pressed soft kisses to your jaw, his hands caressing up and down your back. You hummed against his chest. 

“Adam that was… not even our third date?”

“I’m a very determined guy. When I focus on something, I go all in.” He chuckled.

“Ok. Remember when you came to my apartment the first time, and you’d been an ass and not called me, and I was avoiding you too, and we were both being nervous idiots and you were being a work hermit? And we broke all the mugs when we had sex on the kitchen counter?”

“Yes.”

“That’s when I knew. It was when you were sweeping the broken bits up after, wearing nothing but your socks. You looked ridiculous. And totally hot. And we didn’t stop laughing for ages.”

You both went quiet. 

“Let’s...not tell anyone. For now.” You asked, softly. “At least not while we’re here. I don’t want to call people, or have everyone wanting to talk about it. I just want it for us right now.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” Adam smiled at you. “Just us.” 

THere was a small flurry of noise from a bit further down the beach. People had gathered along the shoreline about half a mile from your pitch and were pointing towards the water.

“What’s going on…” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah… hang on.” Adam crawled over to the bag and fished out the binoculars, standing up in the sand and handing you a pair.

You lifted them up and adjusted the focus as you trained your eyes on the water. There, in the crystal blue of the waves, you could make out the dark forms of a nest of turtles moving through the water.

“Oh! Shit! We’re going to miss it! Come on…” You dropped the binoculars in the sand and grabbed Adam’s hand, both of you running down the beach to join where the rest of the crowd had gathered.

Slowly, the first of the large, beautiful creatures made its way out of the water and onto the sand, followed by another, and another.

Adam clutched your hand as you watched this incredible natural spectacle. Both in awe, feeling the press of the ring against your flesh, the heat of his palm against yours and the quiet wonder of this moment. You glanced at Adam for a moment, eyes catching his, then falling to his lips as he gave you a soft smile. You couldn’t wait to call this man your husband.   
  



	24. "... and the Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor goes to..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOODNESS FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!! I'm BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so sorry this took so long... I had... a bazillion things, and life and this Covid ongoing crazy shit just put me into a writer's block of NOTE! I'm finally here. We finally have a chapter count. It's awards season (surprise, not!) THEN it'll be the wedding (again, this is hardly a spoiler!).
> 
> I can't tell you how much I missed writing this, I just got so stuck and kept trying to start again and hated everything I wrote. I REALLY hope I haven't lost you all!!! 
> 
> Anyways, without further ado. Our fluff bunnies go to the Oscars, Amy's debut! There will be rum, a naughty dress fitting and... LOTS of celebrity cameos!
> 
> Your comments make my world rock and my writing fire return!

January after your holiday was a cyclone. 

No sooner had you arrived back to a frozen NYC from Honolulu, than 24 hours later Adam was on a flight to LA to shoot Marriage Story and you were off to London for The Stark Affair.

Three weeks went by in a blur. Your first feature film was like nothing you’d experienced, nothing that Juilliard or the theater had prepared you for. On the advice of your agent, you hired a coach - not so much to help with acting support, but more to help guide you on set. You never knew you could function on so little sleep. It wasn’t that the hours were punishing so much as the adrenaline and nerves kept you awake. Thankfully, the crew, runners, make-up team and - an ally you formed early on, Terry your wardrobe fitter - offered incredible support, talking you through every step, reassuring you, offering endless advice. 

Between the disjointed hours on and off set, the time difference and the prep, you still managed to call Adam every couple of days. He was being put through his paces on his end, shooting all the LA scenes of the movie in one burst for timing, including a particularly harrowing fight scene which had left him emotionally on edge for several days. You heard it in his voice and missed him. He told you how much hearing from you kept him sane. You could picture how in his head he would have gotten, and no matter how much Noah and Scarlett, his co-star and the production team would be on hand to support and rehearse and break tensions between scenes you knew him, knew where he would be mentally. 

In week three he flew out to meet you in London and you spent 48 hours doing little else other than holing up in your suite at the Soho Hotel, watching the rain outside your window, having sex, talking for hours, eating room service pizza in the bath, having more sex, holding each other, talking endlessly into the small hours, spooning as you both slept through a movie. On the second night, you ate out at a quiet seafood restaurant in Chelsea, with an idea to hit a bar for cocktails after, but both realised you weren’t really into it and just wanted quiet time, to curl up together in comfy trackies and order mini-bar top ups in your suite. Then he was off again. 

Suddenly, by the first week of February it was a wrap on your shoot and Adam was back in NYC to film a few remaining short scenes of Marriage Story and pick-ups.

Then... It was awards season. 

Your agents were on fire ensuring you had invitations to as many parties and events as possible, now that you had your first movie to talk about which would be released after summer. Despite having no movies in the awards runnings that year, Adam got an Academy Awards invitation as he’d been granted his membership over the summer. And the invitations just kept coming.

***

“So...a Vanity Fair reception at The Beverly Hills Plaza. MPTF Pre-Oscars party, somewhere called...Montefiore? The BAFTA LA tea party… there’s one from SAG, a lunch?” - you checked them all again and cocked an eyebrow up - “Wait, these are ALL on the same day? How…?”

“Yeah, it’s fucking exhausting.” Adam peered over his script from where he lay sprawled out on the sofa in joggers and a hoodie, one hand mindlessly stroking Moose’s sleeping form on the floor beside him. 

“But… it’s good, for you know, ‘networking’. Urrrgh.” He shook his head and blew out the air from his lips loudly, vocalising his own annoyance at a word he hated. 

You were flicking through the various invitations that Hannah had forwarded, the thick, embossed cards gold foiled or jet black and glossy and heavy in your palm. It all started to seem less exciting by the minute, and more foot numbingly exhausting and stressful.

“I know it will be, I’m just… do people sleep at all at any point?”

“Nope. You drink a lot of coffee, a lot of Gatorade, Hannah feeds me Pro-Plus like candy. There’s for sure a lot of, uh, less salubrious stuff that also goes around, just to keep people awake on the circuit… You’ll forget where you are most of the time and answer the same questions over and over and over and over…It’s… great fun.” He smirked at you as you giggled.

“Really selling it to me here…” you walked over to where he was lying on the sofa and took the script out of his hand. You sat down on the edge of the couch, and leaned over to kiss him, his hair still mussed from his run that morning. He reached a hand out to slide up the side of your hip, curling his wide palm around your waist. 

“Surely some of it is fun? I mean… I’m pinching myself. I’m going to the Oscars. WE are going to the Oscars. This is still insane for me. I need some of this to be fun.”

Adam smiled softly, a lop-sided, dimpled smile, his eyebrows creasing in mock incredulity. He gave your belly a soft squeeze.

“Of course it’s fun. Some of it. It’s a chance to catch up.You know, most of the time I don’t get to ever see people I’ve worked with again except at these things. The food is usually good. Some of the parties are… ok.”

“Adam!” you rolled your eyes at him, jokingly.

“No really. It’s… you’re only really at most of them for half an hour then you have to go to another one. Most of the time you don’t know anyone there except because maybe you saw their movie, or shook their hand at some other thing a year before. So it’s thirty minutes of polite chit chat, hand-shaking and saying “Oh, I Ioved you in that movie.” I’m really not good at small talk so I feel like I always just ask really weird questions. Randi’s obviously there making sure I meet every single important person, and your agent will be there too, which is great, but it’s a total whirlwind, there’s no actual real conversation...Then when you DO meet the people you really want to see you’re out the door again. There’s never enough time to eat the food, except at the actual Oscars - which go on FOREVER. Or there’s canapes, but they somehow never reach you so you drink too much.``

“You’re such a grumpy old man.” You chuckled, kissing the end of his nose which he was scrunching up in mock irritation.

“I know.”, He smiled, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “But I’m your grumpy old man.”

“Be serious for a moment. This is… it’s important to me. I’m… it’s my first movie. This is all… it’s all real, and I want to enjoy this and I need to also… work this.” You looked flustered. You knew the expectation from all this was to secure more work. It’s what you wanted and you knew this was your moment to start carving out your name. But it was daunting. You needed Adam to stop being so blasé about it.

He sensed your concern and sat up, running a hand through his hair and pursing his lips.

“Amy, it’s... a circus sometimes, but of course it’s important. Are you kidding? It never gets less surreal, and the reality is, well, I find it… weird and confusing, and a little fucking scary sometimes. It’s really overwhelming. Because when you’re at these things, you’re beyond exhausted. Everyone wants a piece of you. And at the same time it’s like having to pinch yourself all over again that you get to even do this for a living. It’s like being faced with the reality of what was actually produced, the “why” of why you do this. It’s a fucking honour…. I mean. I don’t mean it’s an honour going to bijou parties, or whatever shit. That’s all nice and fun, you know, but it’s mostly just industry bullshit… necessary, but bullshit. I mean... the reality of knowing that you were part of a film. That people watched it. That you’re part of a thing that actually has an impact. That… still blows me away. Every time.”

He looked at the floor, worrying his lip as he always did when he realised he was running away with himself and needed to regroup his thoughts. Then he continued, clutching your waist a little tighter. 

“When you’re shooting on set, with the minutiae of everything, when it’s just scripts and lines and scenes and rehearsals and travel and more travel and more readings and more takes, it’s just a job. Awards season is… well it’s definitely hard work and crazy, but it’s also the moment where you actually realise there’s a finished movie. And that people give a shit. Like, you’ve been a part of something that affected someone. That is bigger than you. And so… yes it’s fun, AND it’s important. And you’re right, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not be serious. Just…”

“I get it. Really, I do. I’m… thank you. That’s what I needed to hear.” You kissed him again, pressing in closer and moving up on your knees to straddle his lap. “I’m not going to pretend I’m not a little bit excited to go to the BAFTA tea.”

“Not the Oscars?” Adam cocked an eyebrow. 

“I’m barely even registering that’s happening on my conscious scale right now, I think I’ll need a moment to digest…” you laughed. 

He pressed a soft, hungry kiss to your mouth, smiling against your lips. 

“The best part about this whole awards period is the movies. You get to see a whole bunch of new movies...yeah. All the films you don’t get time to see all year. Like, last year I went with Spike and John to a private screening of Roma at Alfonso Cuaron’s place in the hills. I mean, Cuaron is someone I just completely admire… oh man, I’d love to work with him. So much. And I got to meet him, he was… such a gracious host. And you know, you hang out. Drink a beer. Watch movies. It was him and… his wife, and a bunch of people he knows, other actors and whatever. And I was the whole time just kicking myself like, ‘Shit, you’re Alfonso Cuaron. I just want to ask you a million questions and totally pick your brain and learn everything. And… I love your furniture. Or, whatever.’ So… those are cool.”

“Why am I not surprised that your favourite part of awards season is being able to sit in the dark in a private house and watch movies?” you grinned.

“Hey, at least I’m consistent.” He pulled you down against his chest and pressed a kiss to your nose, your cheeks, then your mouth, his lips soft and parted, humming quietly at the contact.

“You know what party I am actually excited for?” Adam mumbled as he slid his hand up under your shirt to stroke your back, lips caressing the soft patch of skin behind your ear, teeth nibbling gently at the lobe.

“Which one’s that?” you smiled, arching into him, fingers curled in his hair.

“The one we’ll have after we get married…” 

“Oh, yes. That’s definitely going to be my favourite…” You cupped his face to direct his mouth back to yours, kissing him fully, tongue tracing the plush line of his bottom lip as his hands worked their way up to cup your breasts. 

He moaned quietly as his hand slipped under your bralet, his nose nuzzling into your cheek as he thrust gently up between your legs, letting you feel his arousal. All thoughts of awards erased from your mind as he rucked your t-shirt off over your head, took your dusky, swollen nipple between his lips and suckled, grazing and teasing it with his teeth before slowly licking his tongue around the tip. His mouth knew every sensitive spot, knew to suck the lower swell of your breast just above your ribs, to pepper soft bites where the curve reached just under your arm, knew to lick slowly up from the dip of your neck along the column of your throat as his thumb slid over your saliva-slicked nipple, tugging gently. 

You ground down in his lap arching back as his kisses trailed further down between the slope of your breasts. You reached a hand between you to slide under his t-shirt and span your fingers across the taut, warm skin of his abdomen, slipping downwards, dragging your nails softly through the tuft of black hair below his belly button, teasing the head of his cock between your legs with the tips of your fingers where it poked out from the top of his pants.

Slowly you circled your hips above him, sliding the heat of you along his length before meeting his mouth with yours again. His hands moved more swiftly across your skin, curling around your arms, stroking up your thighs, one hand cupping your ass to move you harder against him.

“You’re wearing… too… many clothes” he grunted as he tried to tug his t-shirt off without breaking his kisses. Then a hiss as you raked your nails down across his chest, grabbed at his neck and pressed your lips harder to his, tongue seeking his, your cheeks feverish and flushed.

In a mess of limbs and fumbling hands he coaxed off your jeans and kicked off his joggers, hair a chaotic mess as he moved to turn you around in his arms. His ragged breathing slowed as his arms circled around you in an embrace. 

“What are you…?”

“Lie back against me, I want to see you all spread out and lovely.” He nuzzled at your ear as he spread his legs out before you and coaxed you back against his body, the wet tip of his cock pressed hard up against your lower spine, his breath hitching as your hair fell across his chest and shoulders and you wiggled your ass up against the base of him, his arousal already painful. 

He cradled you there for a moment, strong arms wrapped around your waist as the tips of his fingers played gently across your skin and he placed the softest of kisses along your shoulder. You sighed back against him as one of his hands moved lower, ghosting over your tummy to tease at the soft curls at the apex of your thighs, his other hand winding his fingers between yours and reaching up to trace your lips. You licked at the tips of his fingers as you felt his lower hand slide between your legs, warm and wet for him, the pad of his index barely grazing over your clit then stroking along your slit, caressing the sensitive skin as he pressed his palm against you, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the effort of restraint. 

You spread your knees open wider as Adam’s fingers slowly stroked between your thighs, unhurried and teasing. He traced up and down along the tender, sensitive lips of your cunt, wetting the tips of his fingers with slick as he dipped briefly inside you, then sliding back up to trace long, slow circles around your clit, his mouth pressing open kisses to your neck as he watched his hand bring you pleasure, watched the small dip and rise of your abdomen as you clenched from the building pressure. His fingers stroked and played between your legs, teasing you slowly, sliding the hood of your clit up and tapping softly at your most sensitive spot until you arched against him, before sliding his fingers lower and thrusting into you with two, then three fingers. His palm pressed down over your mound as he curled his digits inside you making you squirm with the growing pleasure, the hand at your breast tugged at your nipples as he pumped inside you, the pink flush of your chest, rolling hips and the sheen of sweat on your cheeks making Adam so horny he started to growl low into your ear. 

“Do you know how beautiful you are like this? All pink and flushed?” he whispered in your ear, fingers moving faster between your legs, your thighs sticky with arousal. 

You reached behind you to touch him, wanted to feel him hard and heavy in your hand, wanted to feel how much you turned him on. He hissed as you curled your fingers around his shaft and shifted beneath you, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Do you want to come? You feel close…” he panted, breath hot against the shell of your ear, his hips thrusting almost involuntarily into your back as he desperately sought the friction of your hand on his cock. He circled back to your clit, every nerve ending in your body tensing as you felt yourself nearing the peak. He sucked at your neck, biting with more eagerness now as he felt you shudder above him, watched your thighs start to clench.

“You’re so close… Amy, fuck, I love watching you like this. But I want to feel you come with me inside you. Please…?” He pulled his fingers away and swiftly used his hands to lift your ass so he could position himself beneath you. You arched your back against his chest and used your hand to guide his cock to your entrance - the temporary loss of his fingers only making the anticipation of your orgasm stronger. 

You felt the tip of him nudge between your folds, his chest heaving as he bit his lip and let out a low groan of pleasure. You slowly lowered yourself down, feeling him fill you, hot and thick and glorious and he began to thrust immediately, a desperate man. You leaned back, eyes-closed, wanting to just lose yourself to the delicious sensation of him moving inside you, beneath you. 

“Fuck… I’m so fucking turned on… I won’t last…” He mumbled. He brought his fingers back to your clit and you covered his hand with yours, so tiny over his large palm, feeling the movement of his fingers as he rubbed over your sensitive, swollen little nub. He thrust up into you faster now, inelegantly, hungrily - one huge palm cupping the whole of your breast as he pumped, moaning as you tightened around his cock, thighs shaking. You were on the edge, blissed out. Needed his mouth. 

As he brought you to the brink you turned your head to capture his lips with yours and with a final deep thrust you fell apart, sighing into his mouth as he stroked you through your climax. 

“Jesus…” he groaned, his whole body aching for you, revelling in seeing you come undone above him. He came soon after with a frantic jolt, buried deep inside you, wrapping his arms fully around you to hold you close as he shook, feeling each pulse, his mouth everywhere against your skin, your lips. A trickle of cum slid along your inner thigh as he pulled slowly out then lazily thrust in again, his heart rate almost stuttering in his chest, against your spine.

“Fuck, Amy…that was…mmm”  
“...really, really hot…” you grinned as you kissed him messily. 

You turned in his arms, both of you sweat-slicked and too warm and messy and glowing. Delirious and besotted. You curled into the barrel of his chest and licked at his lips, fingers lost in his hair as you kissed him with so much desire you felt your heart burst and he responded in kind, holding you so tight like you were the most precious thing in his world.

Mine, you couldn’t help but continue repeating in your head. My Adam.

***

There were at least ten people in your suite at Chateau Marmont. You’d arrived the night before on the late flight in from New York, barely having a moment to take in the sumptuous surrounds of the iconic Hollywood hotel and it’s palm court, the tear-shaped pool, the bustling bar before checking in to the Garden Cottage. 

The Oscars were in two days, but already the hotel was heaving with actors, directors, producers, their large retinues, agents, PAs, trolleys carrying racks of clothing were being disgorged from transport carts at the back of the hotel’s main building. There was a considerable buzz in the place, a definite air of glamour and other-worldliness. A small gaggle of press paps were stationed across the road from the hotels’ large gated entrance, cameras propped and ready, a TV broadcast van from a local LA cable channel. 

As Adam waited to collect the keys for your room, you were pretty sure you spotted Cate Blanchette and Leo di Caprio, with friends, or colleagues, sat at different tables in the bar on the way in. It was like a bizarre jolt of familiarity whilst at the same time you felt more out of your skin than ever before. 

You thanked your inner stars for Adam’s absolutely groundedness. Famous actor he might be, but he treated everything like a job, saw everything as another day progressing his career and doing what needed to be done for the film, for his art, to support the people who’d given him the role. He didn’t truck with any effete diva behaviour or excess. 

That first night, you’d ordered late room service, spent a half hour reading on the moonlit terrace of your suite, staring in semi-disbelief at the silhouette of the Hollywood hills above you as you picked through some of the best sushi you’d ever eaten, then fallen asleep like a rock. It was going to be a crazy few days.

And now, 8.30 am the next morning and your suite was a chaotic frenzy of people, suitcases, bustle.  
Adam’s diary was relatively free, a lunch with Randi at Paramount, then he would be your plus one at a cocktail event that evening. He didn’t have any nominations to promote, so the fuss was really focused on you. He was down in the hotel gym when the door knock had come and it felt like a circus had moved into your suite. There was Martha, your agent and her PA, Amy K and her assistant, two tailoring assistants and a costume fitter all trooped into your suite with what looked like twenty suitcases and metal make-up cases, ring lights, dress racks, a trolley of breakfast catering and all hell broke loose.

By the time Adam made it back to the suite you were stood in the midst of the chaos, hair wet and wrapped in a towel, a dress half-pinned to you as you stood on a box, Martha reeling off a list of people you were going to meet during the day and who did what, Amy’s make-up cases open and clothes strewn all over the bed. Someone had put a Motown mix on a speaker, but everyone was talking over it at a hundred miles an hour  
You gave Adam a slightly bewildered wave from your position in the middle of the room and he just walked in grinning. The rest of the crew mumbled hellos, but were too busy to really take notice of him.

“Hey AK, Martha… wow, this is kind of nice to have all this fuss over someone else for once.” he chuckled as he grabbed a pastry from the catering trolley, took a huge bite from it as he wiped his face and the damp strands of his hair with the gym towel around his shoulders. “You look beautiful.” he strode over and planted a kiss on your cheek. 

“I’m not even dressed or made up yet?” you laughed.

“I know.” he grinned. “Ok, I’m going to take a shower, when are you out?”

Martha pipped in, “We’re over at the Emily’s List luncheon at the Four Seasons at eleven, so leaving in about an hour?”

“When do you need me later?” He checked his phone left on the bedside table.

“We’re back here at six to get ready for eight. The drinks are at The Polo Lounge, is Michael coming to fit you?”

“Yeah, he just messaged. He’s coming at six thirty. I’ll get Hannah to order food in.”

Adam went to shower, looking for all the world completely at ease in this madness whilst your brain was just spinning. You’d never even heard of any of these places, but you just took it all in and closed your eyes as the dress was finally pinned and AK sat you down at the vanity table to start on your hair. 

“You ok Amy?” she asked as she organised her set up on the table in front of you and adjusted the ring lights to focus on your face.

“Yeah it’s just…” you looked at her in the mirror and gave a sigh of confusion.

“Yeah. It’s a lot. I’ve been doing this fifteen years now, and this is definitely the craziest part of the year. Just think of it like… bar hopping in New York when you’re in your twenties and trying to make friends in the city. Just with more people in more expensive clothes and there’s photographers. But really, it’s the same thing. You go in, you smile, you chit chat, have a laugh, have a glass of Champagne, you move on.”

“I know I’m just… I feel like a fish out of water. I mean, I know my cast mates who are all coming today, but they don’t feel “famous” to me, like we all just worked together. Now it’s going to be a whole three days of rubbing shoulders with people I literally have admired for years, and I don’t even understand how I got here and it’s all…”

“But all your castmates are famous, remember that. Wait until you see the billboards with your face on them… Just look at everyone you’re about to meet in the same way. We’re all here doing a job. It looks pretty and glamorous because that’s the industry, and TV and magazines only capture the sexy bits, not the standing around in a red carpet queue in the cold for ages, all the stopping every five minutes for me to arrange your hair or spray fixer on your face again, grabbing drive thru junk food in a tailored gown between events because there’s never enough food…”

“Really?”

“Oh, for sure. But hey… everyone else also has twenty people in their room creating this massive illusion. Everyone else got here from their own lives and they’re all in the same boat, with the same shit going on at home, privately, that no one sees. Someone’s got a kid with colic, someone’s literally flown in from a set halfway across the country and has to fly straight back out and is exhausted and cranky. Someone’s here with their mom and has to deal with that… Someone hates having to leave their family for a week to come and do a hundred events.”

“Thanks AK. You’re right. I should just enjoy it really.”

“You should. Have a Bucks Fizz, it’ll perk you up I promise. You’re worried about all the glamour and fame freaking you out? Just remember you’re the one taking an A-lister for cocktails later. You wait til the paps go crazy when you both walk into the room.”

You burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, you know what, you’re so damn right. I remember when we went to that Carnegie Hall event, I was so weirded out seeing Adam on stage in his tux the first time since we’d started dating, suddenly being “The Actor”, the cameras. I look at him now and I just see a huge dork who eats bagels like he’s trying to get the whole thing in his mouth in one go, talks to our dog like he’s a cartoon character and still cries at Pixar movies.”

AK laughed so hard she nearly dropped her blush brush. 

“See? Right, straight faces now, let’s get you all glammed up! Joe, can you get Amy a Buck’s Fizz?” she motioned to her assistant then got to work.

***

The luncheon went a long way to make you comfortable. You were sat with your crew and castmates from The Stark Affair at a big round table as you listened to some impassioned speeches and then a round of fundraising raffle prizes were presented. Emily’s List, the Democratic women’s political organisation, always held a Hollywood lunch during Oscars season and you were happy to show your face at any women-supporting cause. Martha knew it would help your profile and your castmates, all women, wanted to be there to network too - there was still a lot of work to be done in the film industry to support women’s equality and representation. 

After the lunch, people mingled between tables. Rosario (Dawson), who’d been so kind to you on set, took you over to a few tables and introduced you to various people - producers, agents, you met Eva Longoria and Tina Fey and instead of freaking out, ended up borrowing Tina’s lipstick in the women’s bathroom because you couldn’t find yours in your clutch bag and you both shared a laugh as she had to ask the bathroom attendant for some deodorant.

“It’s always so damn hot at these things, I think people in LA just can’t handle if the temperature drops below the mid-70s and they crank the damn heaters up” Tina laughed. You had to help her unzip the back of her cocktail gown so she could use the spray and you confessed, as you both giggled at the awkward set-up, “this is definitely not a situation I saw myself in nine months ago. I never thought I’d be… hanging out with Tina Fey’s armpit in a bathroom.”

“Hollywood, lemme tell ya. It’s such a glamathon.” she smiled at you. “Thanks so much for helping, this dress is great, but the material is SO clingy. I look forward to your film.”

“Oh! Thank you. Yes, I’m excited. Ok… you’re all sorted. Let me zip you up again.”

You could do this. In fact, you could not only do this, you could enjoy it. You were determined now. You were going to rock this awards season. It was with that renewed confidence that you looked ahead to that night. And the Oscars. 

***

The air was light out on the small terrace of your Garden Cottage suite, it was early evening and you and Adam were having a time out for a few minutes from the rush of getting ready for the Academy Awards. Despite being mid-February, the LA air was pleasantly mild and Adam closed the glass double doors behind him to shut out the bustle inside. He held two glasses of Champagne in one hand and moved to hand one to you. 

He stood so tall in front of you, the golden light of the room behind him illuminating his broad frame in the evening darkness. His face was soft, his gaze gentle as you smiled up at him. He reached out for your elbow in a gesture of tenderness, looking down at you with eyes full of love. 

“You ok? You look beautiful.” 

You took him all in, in his Oscars get up. Michael had just finished dressing him in an inky black Burberry tuxedo, slim collared, with a crisp white Berlutti shirt and a velvet Burberry bow tie. The tux enhanced the thick broadness of his frame, the breadth of his shoulders. His hair was brushed back in thick soft waves, tousled with beach spray, curling around his jaw. On his wrist a silver Breitling. He looked so handsome you took a small breath. 

You took the glass from his hand and reached out to clink with his.

“You look pretty dashing yourself Mr. Driver.” you grinned, taking a sip without leaving his gaze. 

“I just needed some air for a bit, too much fussing in there.” he smiled, drinking slowly. 

“I got something for you.” You said. 

“Oh? You’re always getting me things.” He looked bashful for a moment. 

“Well, technically Michael arranged them but I consulted with him.”

“What is it?”

You reached into the pocket of your gown - yes pockets! A trend that designers had really started to push on the red carpet so stars could have access to emergency items on hand. You pulled out a small box.

“Cufflinks?” Adam grinned. “Oh… wait. What? Does that say Moose? Oh that’s so cool. Thank you...”

“Yep! He had them custom made.” He put his glass down and you helped him put them on before tucking his jacket sleeves back down. “I thought you’d like them. Plus they remind me how we met…” 

Adam pulled you close and tilted your face up to meet his.

“I can’t wait to be married to you.” He whispered, lips hovering over yours, his breath warm against your face as his arm slid around your waist. “You know… we’ve managed to keep this pretty under wraps to the public, but everyone’s going to see your engagement ring now…” 

“I know. I was thinking about it. I didn’t wear it yesterday because I had that photocall but… should I take it off?”

“Only if you want to? I… I don’t mind. But if you want to wear it, I’m ready.”

“I want to. I… it’s not going to be much of a secret for much longer anyway. I want to feel proud of it. I am proud of it.”

“Good. Me too.” He kissed you again, deepening the kiss, the arm around your waist moving lower to cup the soft curve of your ass, his other caressing the column of your throat as his lips burned against yours.

“Let;s just skip the whole thing and go to bed…” he whispered. “Can we?” He traced your lips with his tongue, pressed against you and you felt him getting hard.

“Adam! There’s a room full of people…” he shut you off with his mouth and moved you further into the dark of the terrace, gently pushing you against a wall away from any view of the double doors. You reached your arms around his neck and hungrily sought his tongue again.

“I could just get on my knees right here…” He continued, whispering between hungry kisses, a hand reaching between you to press at the soft folds of silk bunched between your legs. “Lift the skirt of your dress, slide your panties to one side. Taste you.” 

Your stomach plummeted at his words as his mouth trailed along your jaw and you felt how desperate for you he was. He was usually so restrained when you were outside of your own home, but the darkness of the terrace, the thrill of knowing a whole gaggle of people were just out of earshot had you both aroused. He was caught up on the adrenaline riding around the whole season. 

“I could lick you, right now, lick your little clit. Taste you, all wet and aroused. No one would know…” He came back to your mouth and suckled softly on your top lip, teasing it with his tongue just as he would if he were between your legs. You felt your body heat rise, the ache between your legs growing as his hand stroked over the layers of silk against your sex. 

“I could make you come, and you could stay really quiet…” 

“Adam!! I…” 

“Shhhh….” he giggled against your neck and moved his hand from between your legs, smoothing the skirt of your gown back down and resting his forehead against yours. He took several deep breaths.

“So… um… hi, nice to meet you. I’m Adam…” he chuckled.  
“What’s gotten into you?” You giggled, curling your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck and tugging gently. “You’re like a horny school boy and WE need to go back in, we’re already running late.”

“Ach, whatever, everyone’s late to these things. Promise me I can do all those things later?” he mumbled, all earnestly-faced and swollen-lipped, in sharp contrast to the seriousness of his bold suit and elegant shoes. 

“Are you kidding? I promise… ten times over… and I’ll definitely be thinking about it all the way through dinner…”

He grinned, tidied your hair and brushed down the front of his suit jacket before taking your hand, collecting his glass and pulling your back into the room.

***

The Oscars were… insane. There was no other way to describe it. 

From the moment you stepped out of the car about half a block from the Kodak Theatre on Wilshire it was like a controlled explosion in slow motion, what felt like hundreds of thousands of things, people, all going on at once, a riot of colour, noise, confusion. 

You were in the queue for the red carpet for what felt like hours, but was in fact just twenty minutes, AK tweaking bits of your hair and Adam’s hair all the way down the queue, Randi and Martha on the phone behind you the entire time talking to who knows who, every two minutes someone was ushering you to stand in one spot, or another spot, you were never sure why - you weren’t even near the cameras yet. There was a water station where a gaggle of brightly coloured teenagers in FIJI water clothing were handing out bottles against the heat of the rig lighting and the closeness inside the queue tent. Adam kept his hand on the small of your back throughout, pointing people out if you asked, but mostly just looking bemused as you stood around, the nerves in your gut growing.

You were entering together on the red carpet, and would be seated at the same table as David, your director and his wife, Rosario and her husband Cory, Emily Blunt and John Krasinzky, the two exec producers, the casting agent for the movie, and Randi. 

After what seemed an interminable age, you were at the head of the queue and emerged into the sunlight. Randi, Martha and AK suddenly disappeared, as if a giant hand had emerged from somewhere and whisked them away, then it was just the two of you, there in the bright lights, with several other couples, random film people, technicians etc in the face of seemingly thousands of cameras and microphones. Adam squeezed your side.

“Ready?” He asked, quietly. 

You looked at him and beamed. 

“Ready.”

A million camera flashes went off. 

You were wearing a black organza and silk Valentino gown (as per your contract) with tulle lace sleeves and a high sheer lace collar and a low, swooping open back. On your feet, a pair of thin strapped, silver heels also by Valentino and a pair of lotus diamond earrings. Classically elegant with a bit of an edge provided by the jet black lace collar. Ak had swept your hair up into a mass of soft curls pinned at the crown, a loose lock twisted at one side. 

You had opted for no other jewellry on your arms but your engagement ring.

No sooner had you stepped onto the carpet, under the hail of flashing lights than Adam gently guided you to the first of the ten press outlets you were going to talk to over the next twenty minutes. It was all a blur, his hand at the small of your back like an anchor in a sea of ridiculousness. He was noticeably chipper, smiling at everyone - as always despite all his grumbling, he was reluctantly enjoying the moment. 

“Amy, Adam - Tyler from E! Entertainment, hi! Oh. My. Goodness look at you both, loving the all black look - super edgy and sexy.” 

“Thank you… it’s… I’m wearing Valentino. They did the costumes for the movie I’m in.” You felt awkward talking about yourself, but realised this was exactly what they wanted to hear and what you were there to promote, ultimately, so tried to relax into it.

“Is this The Stark Affair? So exciting. Can you reveal ANYTHING about the plot at this stage?”

“Oh… well, not too much” you giggled, nervously mostly, “but, it’s out in August and I can tell you... it’s about five women kicking ass. David is really a great Director - you’ll know him for strong action sequences so yeah. Expect some fiery stuff!”

“Ah-maaaazing. And Adam, this must be the first time you’re at one of these things and NOT in the DRIVING seat. Ha!”

You tried to stifle a groan at the really obvious word play, but just smiled and Adam squeezed your side, trying politely not to roll his eyes, acknowledging himself the awful puns. He chuckled lightly.

“Uh yeah, ah...It’s actually really nice to just be here and not have to, uh, remember all the stuff I’m supposed to say at these things where I usually just confuse people or repeat myself and get really boring. I’m really happy to just be here, have some nice food... and uh, support Amy. You know… it’s nice to be a backseat Driver I guess.”

You nearly let out a really loud snort at Adam’s mocking joke, but instead just grabbed his hand and politely moved on to the next cameras. 

“Are they all going to be this bad?” you laughed as you were already being waved at by a second lot of cameras. 

“Yip... pretty much!” he shot you a goofy smile. 

You talked about your shoes, your dress, your earrings, your dress again. Lots of questions about The Stark Affair that you couldn’t really answer at this stage. Adam was asked about Marriage Story, Star Wars - they never let it go - random questions about what would Kylo Ren do. 

As you walked further down the line though, more people had started to notice the engagement ring. And when you finally made it to the end of the line and got to the Hollywood Reporter camera you knew that’s what they would focus on. Your feet were already sore and you weren’t even inside yet, you couldn’t wait to be seated. Adam was trawling somewhere, having been hijacked a bit longer by one reporter to talk about shooting in LA, and had bumped into Glenn Close and gotten chatting before he finally caught up to you. 

The woman handling the Hollywood Reporter mic wasted no time. 

“Amy Myers and Adam Driver, Hollywood’s hottest couple - here they are. So nice to see you both.”

“Uh, hi, nice to meet you.” You smiled nervously at the compliment.

“Now Amy, you’ve got a big year coming up, with The Stark Affair releasing in August, and I believe another film in the pipeline. But it looks like that might not be the BIGGEST event happening for you this year?”

You saw the camera angle shift down towards your hand where Adam was holding it tightly. 

You decided there was no point not mentioning it, since people had cottoned on. Adam looked at you rather than the camera and happily let you lead. But he was grinning from ear to ear and you felt him move closer to you.

“Um yes… we’re, um. I’m not obviously revealing any plans. But yes, we got engaged last month, we had a bit of a holiday...”

The camera panned on to the ring.

“Adam, what a beautiful ring. You’ve got to tell us - was it a big gesture? Did you go all out?”

Adam winced, hating this sort of thing, but graciously ploughed on. 

“Uh, it’s all a blur really, but I guess I did ok, because she said yes and didn’t run a mile, and she’s still here so… um, yeah.”

“He did good.” You smiled. “Hawaii… the works. But, oh, looks like we’d better get inside. So thank you for your time!” You gave the cameraman a polite nod and quickly steered Adam away. He turned to give a small wave to the remaining press pool before taking your arm and guiding you up the steps to the main theater entrance.

Well, you knew what would definitely be making it into the magazines in the morning.

***

It was densely packed inside and now that the press were no longer distracting you, you had to take a moment to simply soak it all in. A hundred tables, all decked in lavish floral bouquets, Champagne and water and juices and ice buckets at every table. The room was darkly lit, with blue uplighters and sparkling ceiling decorations. It looked like the Christmas display at the Rockefeller Centre had thrown up all over the room. You also finally had the time and headspace to realise how many people you recognised. It was surreal and yet… in a strange moment - suddenly felt real and normal. Glamorous yes, but nothing more than like a giant expensive wedding. 

A succession of people were milling about you and Adam and you snapped back out of your reverie, as you saw people approaching you. 

“Hi!!! Is it Amy Myers?” 

“Yes, Oh Beanie [Feldstein] ! Hi, oh my gosh, I loved you in Booksmart! So nice to meet you.”

“You too! Oh thank you so much! You know, I think we have a friend in common, yeah one of my old friends from Stagedoor was in your show last summer. I’m so sad I missed it, it sounded amazing. Hey Adam!

“Hey Beanie, looking good. Are you here with your brother?”

“Yeah, we’re sitting at the next table from you guys. Guess I’ll catch you between moments, I have to go say hi to someone!

“Sure.”

Another surreal moment. Then a brush of colour in front of you, a shock of white, elegantly coiffed hair.

You heard Adam exclaim in recognition, it was Glenn Close, who'd cornered him on the red carpet in the mad rush. Now she was here, in front of you, and was hugging Adam like a favoured grandson and suddenly clasping your hand.

“Adam, she’s beautiful. Good for you, I hope she’s keeping you in check!” Glenn grinned, giving you a warm embrace.

“Glenn, this is Amy, my fiancée. 

“Amy! Oh give me a hug. You know, I’ve known Adam for years” She chucked at him like a fussing grandmother, “so much talent and those eyes, but he’s always so serious, so stuck in his work I was worried he’d never meet the right girl. I’ve heard GREAT things about your stage show… are you excited for your movie coming out? Come and meet people, there’s still time before the crazy starts.”

Adam grinned, and motioned for you to follow her.

“I’m going to go find our table and get a drink. I can see Noah over there so… I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.” He leaned down and kissed you gently on the cheek, squeezing your hand. 

“Oh look at you all smitten.” Glenn poked Adam’s side teasingly. What a darling, I’m SO glad he’s met you.” Glenn cooed, then tapped at your elbow to indicate her table across the room. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Ronnie.”

“Ronnie?”

“Ron Howard.”

“Are you… wait, no seriously? Ron Howard. I…. shit I… oh sorry.” You laughed nervously, this was just so over your head.

Glenn squeezed your hand reassuringly and whispered close in your ear. 

“It’s the Oscars dear, I’m absolutely serious. Take advantage, that’s the whole point! And don’t worry. He’s a sweetheart. And not only does he not bite, but we have a bottle of aged Bajan rum he sneaked in from the Mondrian, so if you’ve got any nerves, that’ll soften them.”

And you were off.

***  
When you finally got back to your table, your head was in a spin. You felt like you’d met a hundred people, had definitely felt the rum - when the hell was dinner? - and had been papped three times on your way back to Adam with people you’d barely just said hello to, one actor who’d name you didn’t know, Billy Porter (so kind!) and Sofia Coppola, who you tried so hard not to just grin wildly at like a total idiot. 

You’d made it back just in time to greet all your castmates at your table and snaffle a chocolate from the box of gifted Lindt chocolates left on your seat before a countdown started. Everyone was being asked to be quiet as the lights were dimmed and the raised cameras above the room started to spin towards the stage for the main event. The TV broadcast was about to go live. 

Adam held your knee under the table as you settled in, smoothing your skirt, sorting your hair and eagerly started nibbling on the bread roll at your place setting.

“Are you ok?” He whispered into your ear. 

“I am, I’m just so hungry. It’s all just… this is mad. I just did a rum shot with Ron Howard. I mean pinch me in the morning and tell me this isn’t all fucking happening. Please tell me you freaked out too at your first event?”

Adam grinned.

“Yes. Absolutely. I was so out of my depth, I think I looked like a kidnapped child the whole time. Oh, and Glenn likes a bit of a party. I admire her so much, she really championed me early on. I mean, maybe she was having a brain aneurysm or something, but she really opened some doors for me. I’m indebted.”

“She’s like a super glam fairy godmother.”

“She really is. It’s sad really I never see her except at these things.”

“But, she has a house in New York. She just told me. Chelsea. You should, I dunno… Invite her over.”

“I don’t know…”

“Why? What’s the worst. She’s too busy? She would totally come. Besides, I want to hang out with her more. So much to learn from her. She’s incredible. I’ll organise it.”

“Seriously?” his face crinkled in a smile, dimples at his cheeks. 

“Yeah. I’ll talk to her later, if we’re still standing. Or… wait, she’s with CAA, right? Martha will probably know her agent anyway. We can have her, maybe a couple of other people. Talk theatre. Come on, you’d love it. Small dinner…”

Adam was looking at you in amazement, his eyebrows high and a crooked, almost startled smile on his face.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. You. Just… you. You fucking amaze me every single fucking time. Two hours ago you were freaking out about this whole thing, now you’re already planning dinners with people you barely know and small-talking the room like a pro. I’m so in awe of you.”

“Adam, it’s what you do! You told me that.”

“I know! But you’re… so much better at all this shit than me. It’s so damn sexy and I’m so… fucking proud of you.”

He took your hand in his lap as the MC stepped up to the stage to begin proceedings, launching into some skit about Trump. Adam’s fingers played gently with the ring on your finger as he took a sip of wine and kept his eyes on you.

You turned from looking at the stage, back at him, then down at your hand in his. 

“Thank you.” you said, as softly as you could to still be heard over the noise.

“For what?”

“For being you. For making me laugh. For being…my headspace in all of this. For adopting a stupid fucking dog in June last year and changing my world.”

The lights dimmed.

“... and the Academy Award nominees for Best Supporting Actor are…”

*Lights fade to black*


	25. Happy Endings in Hawaii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS IT FOLKS! THE ENDING!!!  
> ***  
> No surprises here. It's the big day. The Wedding Bells.  
> ***  
> Of COURSE Moose plays a starring role. And there is some smutty wedding smut. But mostly our two lovestruck fluffy idiots are just that. fluffy romantic idiots.  
> ***  
> I can't believe this is it. I;m crying. No. You're crying!

Rose flung herself down on the enormous white leather curved sofa facing the wide tiki wood and glass screen doors that gave onto a lush, tropical garden beyond.

“Well, shit! This is fucking incredible. Seriously. Leave me here. I never want to go anywhere else.” She laughed brightly as she kicked off her sneakers and untied the bun of her hair, shaking it free before lounging down in total relaxation.

The bubble of a small rock pool feature and warbling bird song wafted in through the doors, as did that all familiar scent of hibiscus and vanilla that was seared so strongly in your mind from your holiday back in February. 

You couldn’t believe almost a year had passed since you were last in Hawaii. Even more startling was the knowledge that in less than twenty-four hours you would no longer be Amy Myers but Amy Myers-Driver, that you’d be toasting your wedding in front of your closest friends and family and embarking on some whole new adventure you were still getting your bearings around. You toed off your pumps and sank down on the sofa beside Rose, giving her a huge hug as you both laughed, taking in the spectacular view of the bay beyond your private garden, the swaying pines and rolling waves.

Jonathan, who was to be your second “bridesmaid” was taking the grand tour of the villa and you could hear his increasingly loud exclamations reverberate through the house with each new room he walked into.

“OK, there is an actual SWIMMING POOL in this bathroom!” He hollered from upstairs, “and...Oh my God! Did they monogram all our towels just for this stay? The ones on my bed have JS on them? And the…. Oh, the bathrobe is so gorgeous. Girls? Hey… where are you?”

“We’re downstairs. Come and join us!”

He clattered down the stairs, still reeling off the list of things he was finding “amazing” about your villa when he entered the living and dining room.

“Hey Jon, can you check the fridge, I think there’s some gifts in there.” you called out from your spot on the sofa.

In the wine cooler section of the fridge freezer was a case of Ruinart Champagne and a whole box of cold cuts and finger foods.

  
  


“Oh, wow. Amy this is… oh we’re going to have such a good time!!!”

“I can’t believe this is even happening! You’re getting married! Like, what the actual hell?! Where did time go?” Rose said as Jonathan walked over to the sofa with three Champagne glasses in one hand and a bottle in the other. There was already a chilled bucket set up on the table, with chocolates and an enormous bouquet of white tropical flowers. 

“You’re asking me? I’m as baffled as you!” you both giggled.

A note in elegant script - you recognised the handwriting immediately - sat nestled by the ice bucket.

Rose snatched it as soon as she spotted it and read it out loud as Jonathan poured the bubbles. 

“Dear Amy,

Tomorrow I become the luckiest man I know, the luckiest man alive: to get to call you my wife and my partner in all things for the rest of my life. You are such an astonishing force. I love your energy, your wit, your heart, your smile. I love how much you have brightened my days, how much you challenge me, how much you ground me. I am humbled every day to know you, to grow with you, to learn from you and to share my life with you. I look forward to you kicking my ass every day until I grow old and stinky and die. 

Yours in love, Adam.

P.S: Don’t drink it ALL at once. Also, check under your pillows.”

“AMY!!!! My heart is literally exploding. He is such the man for you… God, I hope there’s some serious hot singles at this wedding, because I will be silently dying of envy watching you up there tomorrow. You know… if I’m not too busy bawling my eyes out.”

Jonathan grabbed the note to read it, sighed loudly with a big smile, then put it down.

“This calls for some music. What time are people arriving later? Oh, and I am so checking my pillow… what does he mean?”

You’d arranged for a few of your close friends and your bridal guests to join you for dinner at 8pm in your villa, all the wedding guests all had rooms or suites in the resort’s main hotel residence. Greta was coming, your mother, Adam’s mother (they had met briefly over summer and despite their differences had managed to get along well enough on small talk. You hoped the wine and bigger company would help, also they would probably leave early), your friend Jess from Juilliard was also coming, and your cousins. 

Adam was staying in a beach-side apartment on the other side of the sprawling Four Seasons Lanai resort with his groomsmen: Noah, Billy and his ex-Marine buddy Josh and they had planned their own celebrations. He had a few other actor friends joining for the ceremony and afterparty the following morning. You wouldn’t see him now until you walked down the aisle. Or whatever they called it when it was on a beach. 

The wedding would be a very small, private affair, just your nearest and dearest, but there would definitely be a party and big seafood barbecue dinner out on the lawn by the beach which bordered your villa. Adam’s old drama tutor and mentor from Juilliard was also ordained to officiate weddings and had flown out early for the occasion. It was to be a casual affair, a non-religious ceremony - you’d both written your own vows and Billy (Crudup) was going to play his guitar too. It would be perfect.

But until then, you had your best friends, a case of Champagne, music, a hot tub and pool and the catering team were all on hand to come over and serve up a pre-wedding dinner out on the terrace for you later. You felt like a queen.

As you were getting ready for dinner later that evening you fished under your pillow to see what Adam had left there. You found a small Tiffany box wrapped in a soft bow. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, engraved on the inside with your wedding date and the words “Yours always, AD”. Underneath the small velvet pouch that the bracelet was nestled in was a square card on thick cream paper. It was a token for two for a Chef’s Table meal and private cooking lesson at Lilia, you and Adam’s favourite restaurant in Brooklyn. Another note from Adam on the back said 

_ “Because I need more things in my repertoire than chicken Parmigiana and it turns me on when you get all excited slicing vegetables A x…” _

You belly laughed at that and slid the beautiful bracelet onto your wrist. 

Rose knocked on your door and you showed her the gift. She was also beaming and holding a small Tiffany box.

“Amy! He got me the most beautiful Tiffany earrings, look! Such a gorgeous surprise!”

Adam had bought Rose a tiny set of pearl studs and also written her a note. “Rose, you are Amy’s closest confidante and I can’t thank you enough for all the nudges and advice and insider knowledge. I owe you, Adam x”

Jonathan also strode in, his eyes glowing, holding out a pair of silver cufflinks. “Did you get a note, Rose? I mean these are gorgeous. Tom Ford! These are, like, the classiest thing I own now.”

You felt emotional all of a sudden, the heat, the gifts, the moment. You got a little flustered in between giggles with your friends. Your eyes were shining as you felt a small bubble of tears well up behind them.

“Guys, I just need a moment, ok? I’m getting all sappy! I’m just gonna call Adam and say thanks, you know, before I drink too much of this Champagne! After that the phone is off ‘til tomorrow and it’s totally dancing around time, ok?” 

Rose and Jonathan left you to it as you fished your cell phone out of your bag.

_ *ring* _

_ *ring* _

“Amy! Hey, all ok over there? Miss me already?” Adam’s voice was deep and low, a rumbling whisper as you heard him get up and move from wherever he was. “Hang on… hey guys, it’s Amy I’m just going to take this in the other room.”

“Hey you. I just… I got your gifts… we did. They’re beautiful. The bracelet. The notes…”

“Yeah, you like them?” you heard the crinkle of his smile down the receiver.

“I do. I love you. I just wanted to tell you that… before it all goes wild over here” you laughed.

He was quiet, then softly…

“I love you too. So, so much. I can’t wait to kiss you tomorrow...get you out of that wedding dress...”

“Wow Adam, aren’t you just  _ such _ a romantic!” you giggled. “See, there’s a few things we kind of have to go through before we get to that bit…” You were grinning against your phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, vows, cake, yadda yadda. When do I get to make a getaway and go make love to my amazing wife? That’s what I want to know…”

“So classy Adam. So classy.” You were both laughing now.

“I’m just kidding. I really can’t wait. I’m totally buzzing. You’re going to be so beautiful…” You heard him take a stuttered breath, quiet for a moment. “You’re going to be my wife. _ Wife. _ Does that just sound… crazy weird?”

“A little. Good weird though. Not as weird as husband. Husband sounds like… I don’t know. Old people? I don’t even know what I’m saying.” You both laughed softly. 

“You’re going to be a really hot older woman, you know that right? I’ll be this like, wrinkled, badly dressed, weird tall guy with stains on his beige pants and you’re going to be one of these super feisty glamorous elderly ladies beating people out of her way with like, a sparkly walking cane or something.”

You snorted down the phone.

“THERE’S the sappy man I’m going to marry. You massive dork.”

“Will you still love me when I need to wear a nappy? When I’m carrying a catheter bag around and growling at plant life and have no teeth left?”

“Yes. Teeth or not teeth. Nappies or no nappies”

“I’m so fucking lucky.” He grinned.

Adam giggled and you could hear him swallow, biting his bottom lip. 

“So, how do you like the cooking lesson thing? I’m super excited about it.”

“It’s such a great idea! Thank you. Did you get my gift?”

“I did. It’s perfect.” You’d bought him an engraved silver whisky flask for travelling. Knowing how much he loved Scotch. 

“So what’s happening over at the dude ranch? Has hell broken loose? Have you gone all Lord of the Flies? Is Noah all oiled up with the war paint on?”

Adam belly laughed, both of you picturing the impossible scenario of Noah in anything other than a blazer, jeans and city sneakers on. 

“Not quite yet. Although I dunno… Billy’s organised some kind of midnight dune buggy thing and I think Noah’s freaking out a bit. Maybe I’ll get him to ride on mine, that’ll scare the shit out of him.” He was smirking down the phone, that shit-eating grin.

“Don’t break your goddamn sternum again, please. At least not until AFTER the wedding.” You chided him.

“Is Jonathan singing yet?”

“Not yet, although… I’m still upstairs so I can’t hear. For all I know he’s giving the lounge the Dolly Parton treatment as we speak. Shoot, in fact I should go. Our moms are going to be here soon. And Greta. I need to finish getting ready.”

“Ok, go, go. Enjoy yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow. Holy fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting married.”

“We are. No regrets?”

“Only that I wish I’d met you even sooner and I’d done this ages ago already.”

“Dork.”

“Your dork.”

“My dork. Love you.” It was a whisper. It held everything in it. You hung up and took a moment. Felt the warmth creeping through your body at the thought of being wrapped in his arms the following evening, his partner, his wife, his equal, his lover for life.

***

Sixteen hours later and AK was putting the final touches to your hair, your face glowing in the ring lit mirror of your suite, fingers fiddling nervously with the fabric of your dress, skin flush with excitement. Your heart was in your chest, your eyes shining, emotions - joy, nerves, confidence, pure love, causing pin prick tears to keep rearing up on you.

“You look incredible Amy.” AK smiled at you as she padded blush on your cheeks. “I’d say you’re going to knock him sideways, but I think you already did that so many times, it’s amazing he’s still standing.” You thanked the stars AK was there, you couldn’t not have invited her to the wedding, Adam and you had insisted, and she likewise had insisted on being your groomer for the day, even if Adam was doing his own thing, this wasn’t work so he wanted to get ready on his own terms. You for one were grateful to have AK all to yourself. And for her constant confidence boosting smiles. 

“I feel like I’m just a bucket of sweat. I don’t know how you get the makeup to stay on, seriously, I feel like my face is on fire.” You chuckled and took a sip of the cool Champagne that was sat on the make-up counter in front of you.

“Shush, you look gorgeous. I’ll get the fan in a minute. You know… I know Adam likes to keep things very professional, and, I mean he always does… well you know. He’s always polite and kind, but he can be a bit… intense. But he was just so bad at hiding how cooked he was for you. If I ever mentioned your name his eyes just shot wide open. Every time. He couldn’t keep that concealed  _ at all _ . _ ” _

Greta, Rose and “the Moms” - aka your bridesmaids and crew - were all in your suite with you and a couple of the resort’s Spa therapists were busy finishing manicures and pedicures for all of them. Greta had made a playlist for the day, Bowie-heavy, and was almost as excited as you were, swapping anecdotes about Noah from their wedding and cooing over dog photos Rose was sharing with both of them. The moms were quiet, both a little out of their comfort zones, but they had been delightful and were clearly doing their best to get into the swing and make conversation, even as Greta and Rose drowned them out with their gossip. Jonathan was getting his hair done and a neck massage at the resort’s Spa, although part of you also assumed he was just trying to get some alone time with one of the therapists there you’d seen him get cosy with the night before when you’d eventually gone out to one of the resort bars for a dance. 

Eventually, you were ready. A blast of cold air from a portable fan and a dusting of setting powder and you felt calmer, more relaxed. There was an hour to go and you finally got up from your chair to go and look in the full length mirror. 

You heard Rose’s voice hitch and a tiny sob escape your mom’s lips. Greta squealed. Jonathan, ever the drama queen just let it out. “Fuck girl. You look…. AMAZING!!!”

You took a deep breath and looked up towards the standing mirror in the suite. Wow. 

_ Who is that? Is that me? _

You’d kept it simple - over the top was not your style - but nevertheless the dress just did all the right things in all the right places. A simple, white silk, off-the-shoulder silk sheath dress, with the tiniest river of flowers embroidered from midway past the knee down to the hem, the back was a string of buttons trailing down to the base of your spine, the silk falling like water over your hips. Your hair was piled in a soft updo and peppered with small white flowers, a pair of simple drop pearls in your ears and your bouquet was a drop cluster of white frangipani and hibiscus, in tribute to Hawaii, but also interspersed with heliotrope - the flower symbolising eternal love. 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts as you pushed back the tears again - Greta immediately on hand with a Kleenex.

“AFTER you can cry all you want, God knows I’ll be a stupid mess, but not before! No panda eyes at your wedding!”

You laughed softly. A phone rang somewhere as Jonathan came over and gave you a huge hug. 

“I’m so proud of you. So happy for you. I feel like it’s my big sister getting married. He’s so good for you, I’ve never, ever seen you so happy.” He muffled into your hair as you squeezed him back. 

“Thank you. And thanks for being my partner in crime. Really… through all the weirdness at the beginning. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t pushed me through some of the darker moments. Or Rose.”

“Yeah you would. You’re stronger than you think. But I’m glad I was there for the ride, regardless.” He grinned at you.

“Amy, it’s Noah and Billy on the phone. They’re nearly ready, I think they just want to pass on the good wishes.”

“Oh - of course. Hello?”

“Hi, Amy, we’re...oh, can you hear us? We’re on speaker phone.”

“I hear you boys. How are you? No hangovers I hope” you giggled.

“Ehh…… nothing we can’t solve with a Bloody Mary” you heard BIlly chime in.

“How’s Adam?”

“I think he burned a hole in the carpet. He keeps looking out the door waiting for the car to come - I’ve seen this guy get antsy on film sets, but I’ve never seen him like this. It’s hilarious. He’s checked his hair, his suit, his shoes, like a million times.

  * He’s like a fidgety fucking meerkat! Man he’s so keen it’s _almost_ embarrassing. But really… it’s just funny to watch him being such a loved-up nerd.”



“I keep telling people, he really is a giant softy. No one ever believes me.”

“I’m seeing it now!”

“So no pressure Noah on the best man speech”, you quipped, “but I’ve seen you do improv comedy now, so the stakes are super high.” You remembered a dinner party from a couple of months ago when Adam and Noah had started a silly game of improv over dessert and Noah had totally come out of his shell and wiped the floor with his rapid fire comedic skills. 

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve raided the archive of awkward for some real juice. And… let’s just say the army boys had a LOT of interesting stories to tell. It’s amazing what comes out after a couple of beers.”

You could only imagine, and grinned to yourself. 

Greta was waving at you, pointing at her watch. It was time.

“Oh, guys, ok I have to go. We have to go. Our car’s on it’s way. Holy shit. This is it! I… I guess I’ll, uh, see you at the aisle.”

“Yes! See you there! OKey doke…”

***

The next hours were a blur. A glorious, sun-filled, emotional blur. You barely felt Rose’s hand as she walked you across the grass to where your small wedding party was waiting seated on white chairs, the aisle strewn with petals, the rolling Hawaiian waves in the distance, the swaying palms throwing shade over a white canopy strewn with colourful flowers. You barely noticed the smiles, barely registered the sound of the guitar Billy was playing as you took your first steps down through the seats. 

You’d seen Adam in a suit countless times. But he’d never taken your breath away like he did that morning as you saw him turn towards you, run a hand through his hair and worry his bottom lip as his gaze fell on you from across the grass, standing tall and proud and so,  _ so _ handsome, and...awestruck. 

Everyone faded into nothingness as your eyes locked onto his and your heart stopped in its tracks. He was clean-shaven, wearing a tailored black tuxedo but with a relaxed white linen shirt, the top two buttons undone, a frangipani in his buttonhole. His hair was soft and wind-mussed, brushed back from his face and framing his jaw. His lips were flushed pink and parted in a small breath as he took you in. As you walked towards him he stood even taller, his shoulders broadening even more as he visibly took in another deep breath, his hands crossed in front of him. He looked so young suddenly, so consumed by you, his eyes wide as if caught by surprise, then softening as his cheeks dimpled into a bashful smile.

_ Well, that’s both of us knocked sideways  _ you thought as you barely registered your feet moving. 

Then he was there. In front of you. Your small hands in his. His eyes staring right into the core of you, fingers squeezing yours, at once reassuring and at the same time betraying his awe, his heartbeat thumping fast through his ribs. Mirroring yours. 

“You’re beautiful” he mouthed silently as you looked up at him. “I love you.”

You squeezed his hand back and felt your heart clench.

The officiant grinned as he welcomed the gathering. It was then you snapped out of your daze and noticed Noah and Billy grinning at you from behind Adam, and Greta, Rose and Jonathan waving manically from the front row to your left, all of them beaming. 

“Before we get started everyone” the officiant began, “there’s just one person missing that we really need for this wedding to get underway. I say person… but I mean, dog…”

At that you looked up at Adam, who raised his eyebrows and looked back at you quizzically. 

“What does…?” a smile played on the edge of your lips.

“I don’t know. Really, I have no idea…” Adam said, looking as clueless as you. Then you heard Josh mumble something from the midst of the groomsmen group. There was a small kerfuffle and then a rumble of laughter through the seats as Moose appeared, a small Hawaiian lei around his neck, and a little tuxedo coat on. He looked ridiculous. And also ridiculously cute.

Adam started laughing even as Moose came trotting right up to both of you, the rumble of giggles in the crowd burbling into clapping and even louder laughter. Moose plopped down in front of Adam and immediately raised his paw, patting at Adam’s knee and wagging his tail furiously.

“Hey boy!” Adam chuckled and ruffled Moose’s head, still holding one of your hands. You kneeled down to scritch Moose behind his ear as Adam looked up at the crowd chuckling.

“Uh, Moose everyone. Our dog… So…um, this is a surprise - I don’t know which one of you to blame yet, but when I find out…” he giggled, “no but seriously.” He turned and looked at Josh. “Josh is this you? This is awesome man, totally unexpected.”

“Adam, wait he’s got…” There was a little bag tucked under the lei around Moose’s collar. You unhooked it and opened it. Inside was the ring box. You showed Adam.

“No way. This is so cheesy, but I love it!” He turned back to Josh - “Man, you clearly trust my dog more than I do, I’m not sure I’d have let him go anywhere with the ring box!” he grinned, then crouched down to give Moose a huge hug. Your friends were all clapping now. 

Adam handed the ring box to the officiant to hold, then took up your hands again. 

You beamed at him, a blush across your cheeks. He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your palm. 

“Ok… we’re ready.” And the officiant began. 

“Ladies, Gentlemen, Friends, Family, assorted pets… We are gathered today, in this glorious Hawaiian sunshine, to celebrate the coming together of these two beautiful, creative souls, Adam Douglas Driver and Amy Louise Myers, joining their lives and hearts together in front of their closest friends. And...dog. They’ve chosen to write their own vows…”

***

Adam’s throat bobbed as he looked down at your hands, then back up to your eyes. 

“Amy, today you make me the proudest man. The most humbled. I’m not a man of many words, at least… not uh, publicly, like this” - a small smile - …”but today I am honoured to share in front of our friends, in fact I would shout it from the rooftops, how much I love you. How much I am devoted to you. How much I will fight for you, live alongside you, laugh with you, cry with you, hold you, serve you, be with you, cherish you, until I die. You’ve brought me a sense of why I live that I never knew I needed and make me want to be better, do better, live better, work harder, live more fully, every single moment that I breathe. I’ve had crazy times in my life. I’ve been in the Marines. I’ve lost everything. I’ve been through dark times and fucking amazing times” - “oh,... uh...sorry” - a chuckle - “Every day I pinch myself for the life I have now... But nothing. Nothing at all prepared me for how blown away I was when I finally met you. Nothing compares to the adventure of my life with you. You are everything to me and I promise to give you everything I have.”

***

“Adam. I love you with all of my heart. Every blood cell, every breath, every fibre of my being. Loving you, living with you, being loved by you, is the sweetest song, the most breathtaking view. It’s a rollercoaster. One of the really, really good ones. The anticipation and excitement and energy of the ride-up is thrilling, our every day brings new moments that make me love you more. The surprise of every day, the exhilaration and the joy of the freefall is so much sweeter knowing you are there to catch me, that no matter how out of control life can be, I am safe with you. There is no one for me like you, no one fits me like you do, no one gets me like you do. You’re both my opposite and my perfect complement. My challenge and my reward. We’re like oil and water, fire and ice, a chaotically beautiful dance. And I want to dance with you until my feet hurt and my back aches and my heart stops beating. I am yours, for always.”

***

Adam’s hands trembled as he pushed the ring onto your finger, his eyes seeking yours, a release of breath as you slid his ring on and he broke into the widest smile, eyes crinkled and sparkling. He didn’t even wait for the officiant to speak before swooping down to pull you into his chest and press his lips to yours, his fingers twined in your hair, taking your breath away.

“...you may now…, ok… well…. Congratulations Mr and Mrs Myers-Driver!” and the small crowd erupted in applause as Adam held you close, his arms crushing you into him, his lips playing a sinful dance against yours as he poured every ounce of his love into that kiss.

***

As the photographer took the final few snaps of you and Adam with Moose in a secluded spot down by the seashore, Adam’s hand tightened around yours. You’d not actually had more than a couple of minutes alone together since the “I dos” and you were still feeling overwhelmed and slightly out of it.

“Let’s get out of here for a second, can we?” He whispered in your ear conspiratorially, just as the photographer clicked the lens cap back on his camera and gestured towards his assistant to start packing up.

“Yes. Yes please…” You glanced up at him, his cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

“Uh, ok, thanks are we good to go?” Adam harumphed, with a somewhat irritated tone - you elbowed him, knowing it was just that he really, really wanted some time out.

“Good to go Mr Driver. Thanks.”

“Ok, thank you.” He tugged your hand and started walking towards a clearing in the cluster of palms where you’d been standing, that led to a path back to some out buildings - probably storage outhouses for the resort. There was nobody about here.

“Wait, let me take these shoes off” you giggled, suddenly hit with a moment of delirium as Adams hands reached around your waist and kissed your neck as you bent down to unstrap your sandals. He was your husband. It hit you like a truck. You were alone, with your husband. Finally. 

“Kiss me.” He almost begged as you kicked the second shoe off and he sort of pulled you to him even as he kept walking further down the path, where there was more shade, more privacy. His lips were on your skin, firm hands encircling your waist, his thighs pressed hard against your hips. “Fuck, Amy. I want you. I thought we’d never get a moment alone…”

You tugged gently at the collar of his shirt and pulled his face to yours, pressing back against the nearest palm as his tongue traced the seam of your lips. He let out a low growl as your mouth opened, allowing him entrance and his hand slid down the soft silk, tracing a burning path across the curves of your skin through the thin fabric, his thumb teasing then hardened bud of your nipple as you kissed him hard.

“Do you have….”a kiss, “any” another “idea, how fucking beautiful you look?” Lips against your neck, teeth grazing the shell of your ear, Adam, thick and hard pressing against the curve of your thigh. “You destroy me.” He panted as you sucked his lower lip between yours and arched into him, heart racing.

“We can’t… here…” you chuckled, even as his fingers traced lower, sliding over the swell of your belly, down between your legs.

“I want to make love to  _ my wife _ . I need you… Let me be inside you? Please?”

You pulled away, lips bruised and face flushed, his eyes wild, hands still moving across the silk of your dress, touching you everywhere as he sought permission from you. 

“Yes. I want that. I want you. Adam… I…” He didn’t let you finish. Like a drugged man craving a hit he lifted you off the ground and practically stomped off towards one of the out buildings, kicking the door of the first one you got to with the toe of his shoe, and almost cheering to find it open. His mouth was on yours almost as soon as he’d carried you in, your eyes scoping the room as his hands grabbed at the skirt of your dress and tugged it up past your knees, your thighs.

It was an empty stock room, dark save for a couple of shafts of light from two high windows. Adam fumbled at a small door latch in a vain attempt at privacy, groaning as your hands fumbled with the button of his suit jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, your fingers making a mess of his hair, his cock straining against the suit pants.

“Look at me.” He commanded as he pressed you gently against the door, his hand sliding between your legs, the silks of your dress bunched up around your waist. His hair was a mess, his lips glistening from your kisses, his eyes almost feral with want. “I love you.” He whispered. Then his fingers slowly trailed up your inner thigh, teasing, barely grazing the skin, then ghosting over the seam of your panties, the pad of his index sliding softly over the thin lace covering your cunt. Your heart pounded as his eyes locked onto yours and he let out a soft moan of satisfaction as he felt the fabric dampen under the soft play of his fingers. One long finger traced up and along one of your labia, then down along the other, then two fingers softly pressed against your clit as he bit his lip and he slowly started to caress you there. Torturously slow. Every nerve ending in your body a live wire. 

Without leaving your gaze he moved down your body, into a kneel, bringing his mouth level with your sex, his eyes almost worshipful as he pressed a gentle kiss against your mound, the tip of his tongue playing against the lace as you threw your head back, partly in agony, mostly in ecstasy. You needed him so badly and you knew he was going to take his time. 

His finger tugged your panties to one side and he pressed warm, open mouthed kisses to your cunt, licking at the soft, puffy skin of your labia, licking along your folds, then teasing the hood of your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your thighs shook, clenching involuntarily as he pressed his plush lips around your clit and sucked, his hands gripping your waist as he licked and licked and moaned your name over and over.

You came so hard and so fast you nearly crumpled to the ground, but Adam’s arms kept you steady against the door and he quickly rose to pull you to him, letting you taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you, wolfish kisses, all teeth and tongue and heated passion.

He turned you, walking you back to a low shelf and he lifted you onto it as you reached down to unbutton his suit pants. You were aching for him, vaguely aware of time passing and guests waiting, but mostly just desperate to feel him inside you. There was time for a lavish wedding night later, but now you just wanted him, wanted no separation between you. 

He thrust into you, panties still tugged to one side, burying his cock deep inside you, to the hilt as he clamped his lips against your neck and let out a hoarse cry. The muscles in his arms clenched and tensed as you wrapped your hips around him and he started to move inside you.

“Look at me Adam” you breathed softly. And he did. His eyes absolutely on fire for you. He moved slowly inside you, long, slow thrusts as you watched each other. Watching every breath, every fleck of light in each others eyes, the twitch below his left eye, the slight of your lower lip when he hit the right angle. 

His breath was ragged as he pumped inside you, fingers gripped so tight on your thighs you felt bruises forming, relishing his strength, his warmth. 

You cupped his face as you felt him tense, bringing one of his hands between your legs to stroke your clit as you sensed his nearing orgasm. His gaze never left yours.

“Come for me Adam.” You smiled at him, eyes fluttering closed as he pushed deeper inside you, fingers edging your clit as you felt the familiar burn inside you grow. His hips stuttered, his thrusts were wilder, looser, faster. 

“I… fuck, Amy. You’re perfect.” He grunted and crushed you to him as he came, his body aflame as he kissed you, the feel of him pumping deep inside you like a soothing release. This man. You could never, ever tire of this beautiful, vulnerable, strong, incredible man. Your husband.

HE stroked your hair gently as his breaths slowed, his cock still deep inside you but softening, not ready to release from you yet, not wanting to let you go. Your cheek rested against his, your lips against his ear. 

“I love you Adam Douglas Driver. I’m so proud to be your wife.” you sighed as he held you closer.

“I’m so fucking proud to be your husband.” He chuckled, still somewhat out of breath.

He pulled out eventually, helping you down from the counter and both of you helping each other regain some sense of decorum, smoothing down shirts and tucking in clothes and unmessing hair. 

“Think anyone will notice?” He grinned.

“What, that we’re not there? NOt a chance, they think we’re still doing photos. And it’s an open bar. And if I know that crowd, there’s a fairly good chance Jonathan has distracted them all with a goddamn Sondheim medley. We’re safe.”

“I actually meant the fact that you look… uh… thoroughly fucked.”

“Oh. Um… actually” You tried to pat down a particularly stubborn wave of Adam’s hair that was sticking up at an odd angle.

“Yeah, so do you. Um… ok, five more minutes until my face feels less like a tomato. Although I think the game might be up for us either way.”

Adam looked at you, then down at his rumpled shirt, then back up at you. You both erupted into laughter at just how messy you looked. Nothing was saving you from this and neither of you cared.

***

Months later, when you both had a quiet evening alone - a rare one as you were both in the midst of filming and press tours, doing as much together as possible, but rarely with a break to be just the two of you - your photos arrived and you were going through them on the couch.

There was one that stood out.

You and Adam on the dancefloor - under the glittering soft light of a hundred torches and lanterns erected around a clearing between the palms, on a teak deck that overlooked the beach. One arm was around your waist, the other holding your hand up to his chest, your eyes seeing only each other, the smallest of secret smiles playing on Adam’s lips as he looked at you. His hair was still slightly mussed at the back, the silk of your dress skirt creased from where he had sat you on the counter and made love to you. Out of focus in the background, the smiles and cheers of your closest friends, a family of warmth, watching you take your first dance. But Adam existed only for you, and you for him, in that moment, in that photo. 

Adam’s arm curled around you on the sofa, Moose’s head was in his lap, snoring peacefully, your head rested on Adam’s shoulder. 

You could hear in your head the strains of You Can Never Hold Back Spring by Tom Waits, your first dance, which Billy and Noah had performed for you. You could smell the seasalt air and feel the breeze on the back of your neck. Remembered the taste of wine on your lips, the hugs from your friends. 

You had the photo printed larger and framed. It sat up your bedroom, on the mantelpiece, beside a small framed copy of the first picture ever taken of you together. All those months ago outside Carnegie Hall at the Young Writer’s Awards. The moment the world knew just how in love Adam Driver was. The moment you knew and he knew. 

Adam pressed a kiss to the top of your head, it was getting late and you both had busy days the following morning. 

“Can I take you to bed?” He whispered, stifling a yawn.

“Yes. It’s early, but… yeah we should get a good nights’ sleep.”

“ I wasn’t really thinking of sleeping. I want time with you, but… bed time.” He chuckled, nudging Moose’s head off his lap and standing up to stretch the crick out of his neck.

“I’m very ok with that idea too.” You smiled. 

Adam scooped you up off the sofa, wrapping your legs around his waist as you clung to his shoulders and he carried you up the stairs to your room, pressing kisses to your neck. Whispering sweet nothings.

It never got old, this. It would never get old. 

-THE END -

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the end of the road for this ridiculously epic fic. I never once thought when I started this last year that it would grow like this, become some kind of cathartic lockdown self-help exercise, or bring me SO MUCH JOY. I am sad to say goodbye, but it needed a closure. I hope this delivers. I am sorry it took SO DAMN LONG for me to write the ending.  
> I really, cannot beg for feedback, comments enough. Anything, I just hope this brings you as much happiness as it did me!!! And now I can write that Reylo fic that's been brewing in my brain for months... LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!


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